


(Just Like) Heaven

by cuecard



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-23 21:10:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17087798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuecard/pseuds/cuecard
Summary: The one with the troubled detective and the reporter slash journalist.





	1. Drifting Further Away

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to write something like this for a little while but I haven't had the time and now I do, so here we are. 
> 
> I'm saying it straight up this is very angsty and pretty dark to begin with but there's always light at the end of the tunnel so please keep that in mind! Flashbacks are in italics :) 
> 
> Thanks in advance for any kudos and comments, it's all very much appreciated!

**Powderfinger; Drifting Further Away  
  
** _Don’t shoulder your burden out there on your own, cause every word and every turn and every sign points to your hurt, with every hour you’re drifting further away…  
_

* * *

_  
“Am I dead?” she asks.  
  
“Do you think you’re dead?”  
  
“No. Well maybe, what does being dead feel like?” She turns in a full circle, trying to pinpoint the direction of the other voice. This must be some sort of crazy dream, she thinks.  
  
“Is that a joke?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Strange question to ask, don’t you think?”  
  
“Who the hell are you? And where the hell are you?” She turns again and still sees nothing but soft light where she’s standing. It’s actually a little infuriating now.  
  
“I’m Death.”  
  
“So… I am dead?” she splutters.  
  
“Joke,” Death deadpans with strangely good humour. “Take care of yourself, okay?”  
_

*****

Sasha Banks pulls the car up outside the apartment building that she has been staying in for the last six months. On the passenger side seat are two grocery bags full to the brim with shopping. She grabs them, locks the door to her car and heads into the relatively new building.  
  
After putting the food away and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, she sits at the window and looks down at the world below. The view, even now in late August, is beautiful: the gentle curve of the hill; the long line of pastel coloured houses in the distance and the impressive buildings rising up behind everything with the last of today’s sun giving the whole scene an orange glow.  
  
The wind cuts in through an open window, swirling and jolting the apartment living area – yet, to Sasha, after ten hours of hustle and bustle at work, this is as close to silence as she has had all day.  
  
A minute later, her silence is broken.  
  
On the table in front of her, her phone starts vibrating noisily, attempting to turn in circles on the wood whilst ringing loudly. She always has it on these days – she can’t miss a lot of calls unfortunately. So she brings the phone towards her and turns it over, recognising the name on the screen with a little stab of guilt.  
  
She thinks about letting it go to voicemail. Any time this specific conversation happens it is a conversation without any sort of resolution for any of them. But maybe that’s because there isn’t one, there’s no happy ending for anyone in this situation.  
  
She clicks answer and presses the phone to her ear. “Hey.”  
  
“Sasha.”  
  
“This isn’t a great time,” Sasha says, lying. She looks towards the kitchen, empty dishes have stacked up in the sink and there’s a cereal box still sitting on the worktop. “I’m in the middle of something.”  
  
“So why do you still answer my calls?”  
  
Sasha frowns, not completely understanding the question. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when people call you?”  
  
The voice on the other end of the phone is soft and Sasha’s pretty sure she hears crying too.  
  
“You answer my calls, and I think you lie to me, actually I'm pretty sure you lie to me.”  
  
“Look – “  
  
“No, don’t. Do you feel sorry for me or something?”  
  
There’s nothing in the question, there’s no malice behind it, but there’s no right answer on Sasha’s part either. Standing up and heading towards the cereal box, Sasha reaches in for a handful before she opens the apartment window further to let in the cooler air.  
  
“Sasha?”  
  
“It’s hard to understand,” Sasha says.  
  
“What is?”  
  
“Why what happened, happened.”  
  
“Is it hard for you to understand, Sasha?”  
  
Sasha looks through the window at the ever darkening backdrop before she replies: “Yeah.”  
  
“Do you mean that?”  
  
“Yeah. Listen, I know this is tough to hear, but - ”  
  
“I know what you’re going to say,” the voice cuts in. “I know what you’re going to tell me to do. Accept it. Leave it alone. Move on.”  
  
“I know it’s not as easy as that,” Sasha reasons, “but you need to try.”  
  
“It _wasn’t_ my fault.”  
  
“I know. You've told me.”  
  
Outside the window the wind comes again – harder and more forceful than before. The apartment seems to vibrate like the foundations have shifted underneath, like the fight that is currently taking place in Sasha’s head.  
  
“Look,” Sasha says, trying to maintain the composure in her voice. “I only know what I’ve told you. I can't give you any more than that.”  
  
There’s no response from the other end of the phone so Sasha continues her mini lecture as she hears movement in the bedroom directly behind the living area.  
  
“You can’t forget about it, I understand that, Charlotte. But you need to try. You need to start processing everything that’s happened. Sooner or later you need to start facing it head on.”  
  
There’s silence on the line. Only broken by the soft click of a door on Sasha’s side.  
  
“Because Becky’s gone,” Sasha begins as she looks back out the window, “and she’s not coming back.”

*****

_“Yeah, Lynch.” Becky finally answers her phone after the seventh ring. Her voice is coarse and the words come out slowly, giving away the little sleep she’s managed.  
  
“Where the hell are you? Hunter’s been looking for you for like two hours.”  
  
“Bayley? Time is it?” Becky’s new sidekick, Bayley, has only been with her for a few weeks and they are still getting to grips with how each other work.  
  
“Four in the morning.”  
  
“Day?”  
  
“Are you serious? It’s Sunday. Look, you’d better come and have a look at this, we’ve a really bad crime scene on our hands.”  
  
“Yeah, really bad crime scenes is all we do in this job, Bayley.”  
  
“Well, shit, this one is a mess so you’d better hurry up.”  
  
“Uh-huh,” Becky replies quietly. “Gimme the address?”  
  
She puts her phone down when Bayley finishes talking and looks around the small, dark, unfamiliar room. “Where the fuck am I?” she whispers.  
  
The pounding headache and the terrible taste in her mouth reminds her of the night before and she sinks her head into the pillow behind her in the hope that it will soothe some of the pain. Then there’s movement next to her in the bed.  
  
Not good, not good, not good.  
  
“Hi. I guess that phone call means you have to leave?” The woman’s voice is soft and still thick with sleep. Becky’s surprised eyes fall over the half covered body lying next to her. Through the street lights outside she can just about make out the outline of the person.  
  
Quick memories of last night flash through her mind. The bar, the drinks, the flirting, more drinks, the cab ride to an apartment and the long blonde haired woman whose name she is really struggling to remember. One night stands are not usually her thing and now she remembers why.  
  
“Yeah, sorry about this,” Becky tries to keep it casual.  
  
Becky gets up and starts looking for her jeans; her headache is more prominent now. Her eyes quickly get used to the dimly lit room allowing her to see the other woman’s face better and yep, she’s beautiful.  
  
By the bedroom door Becky finds both her jeans and her bra. Too late to feel embarrassed now, she thinks. “Can I use your bathroom?”  
  
“Sure, first door on the left when you come out of this room,” the woman says, sitting up and resting her back against the headboard.  
  
After collecting the rest of her clothes Becky enters the bathroom and closes the door behind her. After throwing water on her face she stares at her reflection in the mirror. Her dark eyes look tired and her skin is paler than usual.  
  
“This is great, Becky,” she says to herself, splashing more water onto her face. “Wake up in a stranger’s bedroom an’ then run out in the middle of the night with no idea what day it is, just great.”  
  
She grabs the hair brush that is sitting in a bag on a shelf in the bathroom and quickly combs through her tussled hair, then she takes some of the mouth wash and swishes it around before turning the tap back on and watching it drain away down the sink. When she returns to the bedroom the woman is still sitting against the headboard.  
  
“Were you talking to yourself in there?” she asks with a smile.  
  
“What? Oh, right, yeah. I do that sometimes. Look, I don’t usually do this kinda thing -”  
  
“Are you implying that I do?”  
  
“Nah, nah, no,” Becky replies firmly, “I’m just saying this isn’t like me.”  
  
“Well it isn’t like me either. You were funny, nice and actually pretty charming, you could even hold an interesting conversation. One drink led to another and we ended up here which was obviously a mistake on my part.”  
  
Oh boy, this was going down hill quickly. “No, look…” Becky tries to find the right words, “I’m sorry, sometimes I say things without thinking and it comes out wrong. I feel like an idiot now.”  
  
“So you should.”  
  
“Swear, I do.”  
  
The woman smiles and Becky is glad her back pedaling has worked. “Do you mind if I make myself a quick coffee before I go?”  
  
“I don’t know if I have any coffee left but there’s plenty tea that you can help yourself to, the kitchen is just down the hall.”  
  
“Nah I’ll pass, I feel like today will be a coffee kind of day.” Becky pulls her leather jacket over her shoulders and begins zipping it up at the bottom.  
  
“Sure you can’t stay?” The woman pulls the duvet back revealing her nakedness and Becky stands there for a second as if debating what to do. She bites her lip and shakes the thought from her head. “Believe me if I could stay I would.”  
  
“Okay. Was that your girlfriend or whatever on the phone then?”  
  
“What? No, absolutely no, I’m not married or attached to anyone. It was just work.”  
  
“Okay,” the woman replies simply.  
  
“If you give me your number then maybe we can meet up again sometime?”  
  
The woman looks Becky over for a moment and Becky knows what’s coming. “Ah, you think I won’t bother calling you.”  
  
“Wow, a mind reader as well. What a great party trick.”  
  
“Well you should see what I can do with a stack of cards.” The woman smiles again and Becky feels a little victory dance in her stomach. “Plus, I enjoy proving people wrong.”  
  
“I’ll give you my number if you can tell me my name. Deal?”  
  
Becky doesn’t miss a beat. “Charlotte.”  
  
The woman reaches for the notepad on the bedside table with a smirk on her face, tearing the piece of paper off and writing something down, leaning over to give it to Becky when she’s finished. Becky takes the piece of paper from her hand and leans down to kiss her right cheek. “I really have to go.”  
  
Outside the apartment Becky unfolds the paper and the number certainly looks legit. Thank God she’d noticed that little toiletry bag with the name ‘Charlotte’ on it.  
_

*****

Saturday, seven thirty, and her phone beeps quietly on the bedside table, barely enough noise to wake any living creature, but it is enough to rouse her from her shallow sleep, her constantly buzzing mind never really allowing proper sleep to arrive. She grabs the phone on the fourth beep and turns it off quickly, it’s already starting to grate on her nerves.  
  
The initial shock of waking soon crumbles and it gives way to the feeling of awful tiredness that threatens to drag her back into unconsciousness. She’s been here before and she will probably be here again before she can get back into a normal sleeping pattern.  
  
She knows she has to move now or risk falling into the kind of sleep that she wishes had come during the night. Pulling the duvet away from her body, exposing its near nakedness to the cool morning air of the room, she sits at the edge of the bed rubbing her neck as her muscles switch back into on mode.  
  
Once her mind catches up with her and why she is awake so early on a Saturday of all days, she stands and heads for the bathroom, gently shutting the door as she enters. She turns the cold tap on and sweeps a handful of water over her face, the cold water bringing her to life in the process.  
  
It feels like she is the dam and she is trying to stop the waters from breaking through and flooding her whole system. She knows she can’t fight or outrun her feelings. The best she can do is distract herself but she can feel the tears looming.  
  
She walks back through to the bedroom, picking up her running sweatpants from the basket and pulling them on and then she picks out an old Nike tank top from the wardrobe. She put her sneakers on last before grabbing her hoodie and her keys and heading back towards the kitchen.  
  
Feeling generally human, she is aware that the feeling will probably be gone in a few hours and then the rest of the day will be a struggle to hold her mind and body together. She grabs a banana from the fruit bowl and two bottles of water from the fridge, opening one immediately and taking several large gulps.  
  
Soon she is out on the quiet street gulping air instead. The pain in her chest is intense; she feels a momentary release, but she has only avoided it for a moment – the tears are still chasing her down. She feels them just behind her eyes waiting.  
  
She sprints up the street, avoiding the look of the few anonymous faces she passes, hearing only the rumble of the city behind her and feeling only the October morning chill. Her feet pound along with her strides and her heart gallops in response. She turns right and hits the ground hard, pushing her muscles as much as she can and keeps going, thirty seconds, forty seconds, fifty seconds, a minute.  
  
It is working. She keeps it up another minute and then slows her pace, settling into an easier rhythm, feeling the sweat start to form around her hairline and at the base of her back.  
  
She runs for forty minutes before she arrives back exhausted but calmer. Instead of going back into her apartment and facing the bittersweet music, she removes the car keys from her pocket and walks over towards her car instead.  
  
Twenty minutes later she stands at the entrance gates – a black iron arch, intricately woven in swirls and patterns. As she passes through she can see the leaves that have been shoved to either side of the path and the rusted shovel that’s been used to do so lies close by on the ground.  
  
It’s a large cemetery, she knows that, but it some how appears even bigger with no one visible in it. And that’s not to say she’s completely alone there because who the hell knows really? She feels a flicker of déjà vu, there and gone again before she can really think about it.  
  
The scent of autumn is in the air. The leaves on the trees have taken on various warm colours – blood reds, burnt oranges and hot yellows. The resulting falling leaves look a little like butterflies fluttering around in the summer time.  
  
As she carves a path to her destination she studies the flowers that lie by the headstones. Some of them are loose, some are in little pots of natural rain water and every now and then she sees a stone in the shape of the Bible, open at the page where names and dates are scribed, the flowers belonging to them long since gone.  
  
Some headstones are so pristine that she can see her moving reflection in the glittering surface but then some are old and battered; disintegrating into rubble. Those in the next life apparently have their rank too – rich vs. poor, old vs. new – it isn’t something she’s ever really considered before. She’s always had some naïve notion that when people die they go to an equal place, a better Kingdom, maybe she’ll just keep thinking that anyway.  
  
She’s been walking for over ten minutes when she finds it. She crouches down and touches the new engraving with one hand. The stone is, well, it’s stone cold. She stands and looks down at the uneven ground beneath her feet, then she looks back up.  
  
“I don’t know if you can hear me, probably not,” she speaks into the air. “I don’t even know what I want to say, I don’t even know _what_ I’m feeling anymore. I need you to come back and help me out. Please.”  
  
She looks back at the name and for the first time that day she allows herself to cry. She doesn’t know how long it has been but the crunch of feet on the ground behind her alerts her before the voice does.  
  
“Lynch.”  
  
Becky turns and smiles, she can’t help it.

*****

_Becky arrives at one on the dot on a Wednesday afternoon. The street is full of students on their lunch break looking for the cheapest food deal they can find. Burger and pizza joints seem to be the preferred choice, nice and healthy she muses as she finds the Italian restaurant she’s looking for.  
  
The restaurant entrance is pleasantly decorated with colourful plants and flowers, all in a red, white and green theme. The place is small but elegant and resembles a typical Italian restaurant. She waits for a moment, observing waiters moving between tables and the bar before she scans the rest of the place. Charlotte hasn’t arrived yet.  
  
A waitress shows her to the table next to the large ceiling to floor window. She places her jacket over the back of her chair and sits facing the entrance door. Out of habit she checks her phone for any missed messages or calls and thankfully there’s none. She orders an orange juice and has a quick look at the menu. She hopes she can recognise Charlotte straight away, her memory of the weekend is still pretty blurry.  
  
Her thoughts are disrupted when the waitress returns and pours her drink into a cold glass. As she has her first sip her attention is drawn to the restaurant door. Dressed casually in a thin, light blouse tucked into dark, black jeans with black boots and belt to match, Charlotte looks prettier than Becky remembers. Her long blonde hair falls loosely over her shoulder and her light eyes carry an intriguing sparkle.  
  
Becky raises her hand to catch her attention but Charlotte has already noticed her sitting by the window. With a friendly smile she makes her way towards the table. Becky stands and is about to extend her hand for a handshake when she thinks better of it, how fucking ridiculous would that look? Instead Charlotte leans forward and kisses Becky on the cheek, her perfume subtle but lovely.  
  
“So you found this place okay?” Charlotte asks.  
  
“Yeah, no problem. Looks grand.”  
  
“It is.” Charlotte renews her smile as she picks up the menu. “So did you bring your stack of cards to impress me?”  
  
“Was I supposed to?”  
  
“No, the thought of it made me laugh though.”  
  
“So you’re a reporter then?” Becky changes the subject.  
  
“Journalist.”  
  
Becky waves her hand a little. “Same thing to me.”  
  
“It isn’t – wait, how did you know I was a journalist?”  
  
“I notice things other people probably don’t,” Becky says simply, taking another sip of her orange juice.  
  
“You notice things? Come on, I need more than that.”  
  
“That notebook you carry around in your pocket was also beside your bed which means it’s important,” Becky states, tilting her head towards Charlotte’s pocket. “You also have a little ink smudge on the side of your hand like you’ve been writing notes and you also have a press pass alongside your keys,” Becky finishes, tilting her head down again at the keys that sit on the table next to Charlotte’s hand.  
  
“Okay, I’m impressed.” Charlotte looks at her keys for a couple of seconds before she puts them in her bag and then her eyes flit back up to Becky. “But that pass may not be mine.”  
  
“No reporter worth their salt would ever give that away to anyone else no matter what,” Becky shoots back with conviction.  
  
Charlotte stares at her in silence, a nervous smile playing on her lips. “Fine, you got me and I’m a journalist.”  
  
“Like I said, I notice things.” Becky grins back, secretly delighted that she has impressed Charlotte. “And reporter – journalist, same thing in my world.”  
  
The waitress returns to check on their orders and Becky is happy to let Charlotte order for both of them as Italian is not exactly her cuisine of expertise. Charlotte orders them some sort of pasta with a tomato parmesan salad and a water for herself.  
  
“How about you? How’s work?” Charlotte asks.  
  
“Same shit, different day really,” Becky says, playing with her bread knife.  
  
“Way to big up the detective career.”  
  
Becky looks up and stares at Charlotte then, more than a little intrigued. “How do you know I’m a detective?”  
  
It’s Charlotte’s turn to fix her with a stare now. “You’re joking, right?” She pauses and works her fingers through her hair but Becky’s expression tells her that no, Becky is not joking.  
  
“Do you remember anything about spending the night with me? We went back to my place and I saw your badge, I thought it was a cheesy pick up technique at first and you got all offended.”  
  
That sounds like me, Becky thinks to herself and then looks back down at the bread knife in embarrassment, she can feel a smattering of colour on her cheeks now. “I have to be honest with you, that night is a bit of a blur.”  
  
“Do you remember anything about me?”  
  
Becky’s embarrassment has now come full circle and is complete. “Sure, I do.”  
  
“Oh that is bullshit,” Charlotte laughs, “wow, I wasn’t even memorable for you.”  
  
“Nah, nah, it’s not like that at all! I’m sure you’re incredible in bed…” Becky realises she’s said the words a little louder than she intended. Their conversation has suddenly tempted attention from their neighbouring tables. “Oh, Charlotte, that sentence came out all wrong,” she adds in a much lower tone.  
  
Becky hopes the ground opens up and swallows her right now.  
  
Charlotte can only smile. “Saying things without thinking again?”  
  
“That's the story of my life.”  
  
“Can I be honest with you now?” Charlotte asks and she puts her hands further up the table so that their fingers are almost touching. “I was surprised you called me.”  
  
“I like surprising people.” Becky moves her own hand so that their pinky’s link a little bit. “But I’m also guessing that’s why you chose a lunch date so you could check me out better and that if it sucked you could make a quick getaway?”  
  
“Excuse me?”  
  
Becky knows Charlotte is playing dumb but she’s happy to play along if need be. “We both had a lot to drink, our memories of that night are a bit hazy and you were probably unsure if you remembered me correctly.”  
  
Charlotte bites her lip and Becky knows she’s right again.  
  
“I remember more than you do.”  
  
“I’ll give you that one,” Becky admits. “That night wasn’t like me at all. So, did I pass this lunch date test?”  
  
Charlotte nods, tugging at Becky’s pinky again. “Flying colours so far, am I?”  
  
“Yeah, totally.”  
  
The waitress arrives with their pasta not long after and Becky has to admit that it’s probably the best pasta she’s ever tasted.  
  
“Damn, this is incredible.”  
  
“That’s why I recommended this place and that’s why it’s always busy.”  
  
“I bet you eat here all the time, I know I would.”  
  
Charlotte shrugs then, her fork still in her hand. “Not as much as I’d like, it’s not very fun flying solo in restaurants.”  
  
“Well I can always help you out now – “  
  
Before Becky can say anything else her phone rings. She knows what’s about to happen, damn her luck. “Sorry, I have to take this,” Becky says as she brings her phone to her ear. “Lynch.”  
  
Becky looks across at Charlotte’s eyes as the phone line goes dead and Charlotte doesn’t need to be a psychic to know what’s coming next. “I’m sorry, Charlotte, I have to go.”  
  
Charlotte watches as Becky stands up and reaches for her jacket from the back of her chair. There’s something about Becky that Charlotte can’t put her finger on yet. She’s certainly different from the people Charlotte usually meets and not in a bad way. She likes Becky’s sense of humour, her sharp answers and her easy going way.  
  
“I’m really sorry.”  
  
“It’s okay, I get it.” Charlotte stands, takes a step forward and kisses Becky on the cheek again. “Feel free to call me whenever you get time.”  
  
“I will.”  
  
With the hint of an insecure smile, Charlotte watches as Becky races out the restaurant.  
_

_*****  
_

“How come you’re here?”  
  
Becky shrugs and then deflates. “Honestly? I have nowhere else to be. Why are you here?” Becky asks.  
  
“Just felt like the right place to be. I haven’t been back since the funeral.” It is only then that Becky notices the colourful bunch of flowers. “You need to cut yourself some slack, Becky. You couldn’t have done anything differently.”  
  
Becky moves her tongue across her teeth. “Nice flowers. Is this a pep talk? Because if it is you need to give me a few minutes to prepare.”  
  
“I liked them too. It wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve given you a pep talk, would it?”  
  
“Nah, it certainly wouldn’t,” Becky admits with a soft smile. “How have you been since we last spoke?”  
  
“I’m getting there, it’s not a great answer but it’s the only one I have. Nothing really prepares you for losing one of your own. We miss you at work.”  
  
Becky nods her understanding and then lifts her head towards the sky where a bird issues a gentle, sweet call; it is far too bright a soundtrack for the movie that Becky is currently standing in and the song is spoiled because Becky already knows the ending.  
  
“Y’know,” Becky starts, “as painful as this is, I’m glad you’re with me right now. You get it. Hopefully I’ll be cleared to come back to work soon, if I’m not I think I might go crazy.”  
  
“I’m glad I’m here with you too,” Natalya replies. “He’d be happy we’re reminiscing like this.”  
  
“I wish I’d have told him what he meant to me, it bothers me that I didn’t. I keep replaying things over in my head and I had so many opportunities but I didn’t say anything.”  
  
“He already knew, Becky.”  
  
Becky shakes her head in disagreement. “Not the point.”  
  
Natalya moves and places the flowers down on the grass. She stands back and places her head on Becky’s shoulder, her arm looping through Becky’s own but she’s careful not to press too tightly against Becky’s side. “How is Charlotte doing?”  
  
Becky exhales loudly. “I’ve honestly got no idea and I don’t really care either.”


	2. Crossfire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler #1: It's all still very angsty.
> 
> Spoiler #2: It does get better after this, I promise. 
> 
> Thanks in advance for any kudos/comments you have already left/plan on leaving, it is much appreciated. 
> 
> P.s Merry Christmas to everyone when it comes, I hope you all have a great day doing whatever it is you are doing :)

**Brandon Flowers; Crossfire  
  
**

_Dark clouds roll their way over town, heartache and pain came a-pouring down like hail, sleet and rain, yeah they're handing it out and we're caught up in the crossfire…_

* * *

_  
_Two and a half months ago, Becky’s heart had stopped beating for six minutes. She can’t really tell you what happened in that time she was gone, probably because there aren’t any words. She can remember it being more light than dark, like sunlight beaming through glass, and she’s pretty sure she had a conversation with someone too although she’s never said that out loud to anyone.  
  
When her heart had started up again the first sensation was of weight: of skin and bone, and blood flowing around her body; of tendons and nerve endings being woken after a short slumber. Then came the noises, fading in like the end of a song; the voices from the doctors, the machines beeping and then further away, doors shutting and people talking in the background.   
  
The first time she woke there was no one in the room with her. She had turned her head one way and then the other. Plain white room, dark blue floors, blinds pulled shut. Still drowsy and unaware of what was happening to her she had drifted off to sleep again.  
  
When she woke for the second time, Sasha was sitting there, sitting next to her bed, her eyes half asleep. Her clothes were messy and she looked exhausted. Sasha hadn't noticed Becky shift in the bed but she had heard her suck in air, pain blooming across her torso from the wound.   
  
When Sasha leaned down towards her, memories had started going off like fireworks in Becky’s head. One after another. Bang. Bang. Bang. The impact, the initial disbelief, the pain, the warmth of the blood on her hands, the man who had tried to intentionally hurt her.   
  
Becky had always had a clear sense of her mortality, it kind of came with the job. You had to know your and its limits, the threats to it, how to control the fear that someone might want to hurt you or, worse, take your entire life away. Becky had always had that sense and it was ingrained in her, tangled around the helix of her DNA.   
  
But as she had lain there she realised that nothing could really prepare you for something like that happening. There was no manual or step by step help guide, you just had to deal with it as it happened and there was really no right or wrong way to deal with it. Everyone was different.   
  
Nothing could help you realise that while you, as a human, are powerful you are also extremely fragile and sometimes because of that you just need to feel safe and secure with someone. So when Sasha had taken her hand, Becky had felt the emotion swell in her chest like a bunch of balloons and gripped on for dear life.   
  
Becky was reminded then that there is no rewind button and no eraser when it comes to life. The things that happen happen, they are you and you are them just the same, and sure you can escape but you can’t ever really get away from them.  


*****  


_Night arrives slowly, subtly claiming ground like a silent soldier. First, small shadows find the alleyways, then they start creeping across the sidewalks, up walls and through windows, until finally the darkness takes hold of everything outside.  
  
By the time Becky walks through the door of the place she calls home, darkness has stealthily found its way into almost every corner of the city, with the exception of slivers of burnt orange that still colours the sidewalks from the street lamps._

_The quietness of Becky’s apartment is overwhelming at times. As she turns on the lights she wonders what it would be like to come home to someone who cares, someone that could give her reassurance that this world isn’t on its way down the tubes.  
  
She takes a bottle of water from the fridge and makes her way to the couch, she knows sleep isn’t coming any time soon. Why couldn’t she have chosen a simpler career? The reason is simple really. Cliché or not, she wants to make a difference, and every time her investigations and hard work catch a criminal, she knows that she’s made a difference. Becky is good at what she does and she knows it.   
  
She takes a drink of the water, welcoming the cool sensation that travels through her body. She closes her eyes and drops her head back, trying her best to clear her mind of the day’s events, but they are hammering at her memory with force.   
  
The message alert from her phone startles her. Who the hell is messaging her at this time?   
  
Charlotte.   
  
Becky scans the message and then hits the call button. It only rings twice before Charlotte answers.   
  
“Hi, I thought you’d be asleep by now,” Charlotte says.   
  
“I thought the same about you that’s why I didn’t call, I just got home.”   
  
“It's fine, I had a late meeting with my boss, people are getting shuffled around next week. Talking of jobs, is everything okay with you?”   
  
Becky pauses for a second and rubs her eyes. She thinks of how innocent most people are, not knowing the evil that is usually just a stone’s throw away. It’s her job to protect them.  
  
“I’m alright, it’s just the job. It comes with pressure. I’m sorry I had to run off again, now you’ll understand why I’m not married or attached to anyone.” Becky swears she can hear Charlotte smile.   
  
“How would you like to have dinner at my place on Saturday?” Charlotte asks.   
  
“A dinner date?” Becky asks.    
  
“Yeah, a dinner date. The check out lunch date went well so I thought dinner would be nice. Are you busy on Saturday then?”   
  
“Nah, I’ll make sure I’m free. Time?”   
  
“How about seven?”   
  
“Works for me,” Becky says as she screws the top onto the bottle of water she’s still clutching. “Do I need to bring anything?”   
  
“Just you is fine. More importantly, do you remember my address?”   
  
“Oh, jeez. You better give it to me again.”   
  
“Is that a proposition?”   
  
Becky snorts then, an actual genuine disaster of a snort. “What? No! – “  
  
“Becky, relax, I’m just joking with you.”   
  
“That was pretty mean, Charlotte, I’m not gonna lie.”   
  
They both end up laughing.  
_

*****

Becky wakes with a shudder. For a second she’s confused, her hands slick with sweat, heart thrumming so violently in her chest that she can feel it pushing forward in her throat. But then, out of the shadows of her bedroom come objects and shapes that she recognises and, as she looks through the window, reality sets in and she remembers where she is.   
  
Automatically, her fingers are drawn to a spot next to her rib cage. The bandages have been off for nearly three weeks but through the thin t-shirt she is wearing she can feel the new scar: a small knot of flesh on her otherwise unblemished skin.   
  
Some days, deep inside her mind, it feels like she can still feel the metal; a cool ache, like a memory, right underneath her ribs. More often than not though she feels nothing, at least nothing physical.   
  
The only pain that resonates is inside of her head.   
  
She dreams of the impact; of trying to move out the way but being unable to; of calling out for help; of everything growing dimmer. Then somewhere faintly, right on the periphery of her memories, she remembers seeing a couple appear – medics. After that, it becomes a blur of images, flickering like a strobe until it eventually goes dark.   
  
The aftermath has been devastating on so many levels for her, too many levels for her to even begin to understand. She had _died._ Her heart had stopped beating in her chest and Becky doesn’t think she will ever be able to wrap her head around that properly. 

*****

_Becky is usually late to things. Not always but it’s a regular occurrence and it’s never intentional, it kinda just happens, even when she doesn't want it to.  
  
She’s never really been the type to obsess over her clothes, but so far she’s tried on at least seven different outfits and it has cost her almost an hour of her time. In the end she decides to go with a pair of black tight jeans that look like they’ve been painted on, a plain white t-shirt, the new blazer jacket she picked up a few weeks ago and a pair of boots. She can’t believe how much time she’s wasted. Since when did she care about this kind of stuff? Beautiful women like Charlotte had a lot to answer for.   
  
On the way to Charlotte’s she stops at a liquor store to pick up a bottle of wine. Becky’s knowledge of wine is ridiculously bad so she decides to accept the salesman’s advice. She hopes it goes with whatever Charlotte is cooking, for the price she’s paid for it, it had better.   
  
After making her way through the fancy entrance hall of the building - which looks far more impressive in the sober cold light of day - Becky makes her way to the second floor via the stairs. She pauses in front of number 223 and stands still for a moment. There’s music coming from inside. It doesn’t sound like Becky’s type of music but it’s passable. She reaches for the doorbell.   
  
Charlotte’s hair is tied back in a loose braid with several stands falling around her face. Her dark lipstick and subtle eye make up contrast against her tanned skin perfectly.  
  
“You’re late,” she says as she leans forward to give Becky a chaste kiss on the lips.   
  
“Yeah, that’s kinda my thing sometimes. I had a bad hair day.”   
  
“You too?” Charlotte laughs, pointing to her own hair. “Come on in.” She pulls Becky by the hand and leads her into the livingroom. There’s a pleasant smell of home cooking in the apartment, something that Becky certainly isn’t used to anymore.   
  
“I brought this, I had to follow the guy’s recommendation as I hadn't a clue,” Becky states honestly, handing Charlotte the wine bottle. Charlotte looks like someone who appreciates fine wine.   
  
Charlotte holds the bottle with both hands and tilts it towards the light so she can read the label. “Wow, I’m impressed. This will go with just about anything. Do you want a glass?”   
  
“Sure.”   
  
“The glasses are on the table and the corkscrew is in the drinks cabinet by the window. Dinner will be ready soon, just make yourself comfortable.”   
  
Becky takes off her jacket and picks up the corkscrew from the drinks cabinet, opening the wine and pouring the light liquid into two glasses on the table. Next to the drinks cabinet is a book shelf that is almost full and Becky can’t help but browse through them. Everything is perfectly arranged in alphabetical order and Becky finds herself smiling because that seems like a very Charlotte thing to do.   
  
“Whatever it is you’re cooking,” Becky says as she walks into the kitchen with two glasses, “it smells awesome.”   
  
“Let’s hope it tastes as good as it smells then.”   
  
The evening goes better than even Becky could have hoped for. It turns out Charlotte cooks Italian food better than the restaurant does and most of the conversation revolves around her life and that suits Becky down to the ground.   
  
Charlotte grew up in this city. She carries a famous second name that had Becky widening her eyes a little and she’s pretty into sports which Becky thinks is another big tick against Charlotte’s name. Maybe Becky can get Charlotte to catch a baseball or hockey game with her soon.  
  
“This isn’t fair,” Charlotte says, clearing the table and taking the dishes back into the kitchen.   
  
“What isn’t fair?” Becky follows her, carrying the two empty wine glasses.   
  
“You. I’ve basically droned on all through dinner and you’ve barely told me anything. Is it a detective thing?”   
  
Becky considers it for a second as she watches Charlotte wash the first plate. “Uh, I don’t think so? We just like asking questions. Here, let me do that.” She places her hand on Charlotte’s shoulder and leads her away from the sink. Charlotte pours more wine into the two glasses and leaves Becky’s for her.   
  
“So I’m not getting any details about you?” Charlotte tries again.   
  
Becky finishes washing the remaining dishes and turns to face Charlotte again, picking up her own glass and swirling the liquid around a little – she’s seen them do that on cooking shows before, go figure. “I’m a detective first and foremost and that takes up most of my time. I deal with serious crimes only which usually require a lot of work and effort, it’s kinda a convo killer in all honesty.”   
  
“How about your childhood then?”   
  
“I was big on sports - I played anything – football, hockey, tennis, the lot.”   
  
“Hmm, okay then, I like a little mystery I suppose.” Charlotte steps closer and takes the glass from Becky’s hand, placing it on the kitchen counter. She tucks orange hair behind Becky’s ear and then moves her face so that her mouth is close to Becky’s ear. “So what do you do to relax?”   
  
Charlotte’s voice is barely above a whisper and her breath against Becky’s neck makes Becky’s fingers twitch. She leans back just enough so that they are looking at each other.   
  
“I guess I’m open to suggestions.”   
  
Charlotte kisses her then and it’s bold this time. Becky feels Charlotte’s tongue against her own and before she knows it she’s switching their positions; turning them around so that it’s Charlotte pressed against the kitchen counter with Becky’s hips keeping her in place. Charlotte seems to read her mind because before Becky can even ask Charlotte hops onto the counter, wrapping her legs around Becky’s waist to keep her close.   
  
Her body is keen for Charlotte and finally being there; tasting her, watching her lift her head back so that Becky’s mouth has easy access to her neck and chest. Becky even has to hold herself back a little, she doesn’t want to be rough with Charlotte right now even though she thinks Charlotte probably wouldn’t mind.   
  
She feels Charlotte’s nails scrape at the base of her neck, her grip tight and tender all at the same time and it just spurs Becky on. Becky’s hands are everywhere and nowhere and before Charlotte knows it, Becky is taking her hand and dragging her willingly towards her bedroom.   
  
\-   
  
When Charlotte finally rolls over in the morning and places her hand on Becky’s bare chest, she’s still tired and a tad sore and it feels exquisite.   
  
“I’m exhausted.”   
  
A smug smile plays around the corners of Becky’s mouth and despite the situation, Charlotte finds her all sorts of adorable so she leans over and kisses her again, pressing Becky into the mattress a little.   
  
“Job well done then,” Becky eventually mutters.   
  
“A job? Seriously?”   
  
“No, I don’t mean it like that, Charlotte, God. Wait. You’re doing it again aren’t you?”   
  
Charlotte lowers her head onto Becky’s chest and begins to laugh against the skin she finds there and there’s several sharp pinches at her hip but that just makes her laugh even more.   
  
“Can you stay for breakfast?”   
  
“Yeah. Do you need any help?”   
  
Charlotte makes light work of getting out of bed and throwing a t-shirt and some shorts on. “The last time you offered to help me in the kitchen we ended up here.”   
  
“And you loved it.”   
  
Damn, Becky is a smug little shit but she’s also right. “Maybe so but just stay where you are, I won’t be long.”   
  
Charlotte returns twenty minutes later with a tray full of French toast, fruit, several kinds of sweet syrup and freshly made coffee.   
  
“I thought you didn’t have any coffee left?” Becky asks as she sits up against the headboard. She’s managed to find her t-shirt from last night and has also switched the tv on so there's some background noise.   
  
“I didn’t but I had a feeling you might be back here,” Charlotte replies and there’s a slight rush of colour on her cheeks. She moves back around to her own side of the bed, pulling the duvet across her legs and bringing the tray closer so that it sits in the middle of them. “Dig in.”   
  
Becky smiles and although Charlotte has seen her smile before something is different about it this time. It’s the kind of smile that makes the world feel like a brighter place. “Oh, I plan to.”   
_

*****

Becky is sitting at the corner of the bar. Nearly everyone else in the place has their back to her which she likes, and there is no music being played or tv on – just the quiet buzz of conversation – which she likes even more. Nothing makes her annoyed more than being forced to listen to music she doesn’t enjoy. _  
  
_ She stares as the barman pours the drink, free hand, nearly to the top of the glass. She has no idea about what constitutes good whisky. She just knows that this kind is cheap and can therefore be used for serious drinking rather than sipping and enjoying. Good enough.   
  
She doesn’t need to look up when she hears the bar door open behind her, she knows exactly who it is.   
  
“Your stalking skills need major work, Charlotte. I’m disappointed in you. Again.”   
  
“I wasn’t –“   
  
Becky holds up her hand and downs her drink in one go, slamming the glass on the bar a little and signaling for another one. “You’ve been standing outside for about ten minutes. Subtly ain’t your strong point, love.”   
  
She’d sensed Charlotte’s presence approaching long before she’d seen her, Becky is weirdly in tune to Charlotte in that way.   
  
“I had a late meeting and I seen you come in here, I just wanted –“   
  
Becky cuts her off again, sharply this time. “It’s too late for that, we’re done. I don’t wanna speak to you and I don’t wanna see you again either so get out of my face.”   
  
Her words are harsh but she doesn’t regret them. She wonders at what point she got to this angry stage, it’s not even angry any more to be honest it’s more than that. It’s almost venomous.   
  
There’s a gentle hand on her shoulder then and Becky shrugs it off with such force that she finds herself off the bar stool and on her feet in one swift motion. She can see Charlotte’s resolve beginning to fade a little. Good, Becky thinks to herself.   
  
“Haven’t you done enough?” Becky says, her voice low. “Or are you here to cause me more pain? Because if you are, you’re wasting your time.”  
  
“Becks, listen I _didn’t_ – “   
  
“Don’t you dare ‘Becks’ me and _you_ listen."  Becky taps Charlotte’s shoulder firmly with her finger for good measure. “I told you what could happen if you released that information into the public and you didn’t care, you did it anyway and look what happened.”   
  
“I didn’t –“   
  
“Which makes me think that you never gave a shit about me, Charlotte, or anything I ever said to you. Just a big ol' story and pay day for you, ey?”   
  
Becky makes a seamless movement then, from really annoyed to really fucking pissed off. It’s a sincere statement and the intention is clear: Becky blames Charlotte.  
  
Becky turns her attention back to the bar and downs another drink. The barman eyes them both wearily, eyes sliding from right to left, before turning on them and heading back towards the optic.

“I guess from the silence that I’m right. There’s a shocker. Just go away, Charlotte, honestly you’re starting to really piss me off now.”   
  
Becky looks back at Charlotte then, revealing teary eyes and it’s not sadness Becky sees anymore, it’s something else, something more. Like something in Charlotte is broken and maybe it is, maybe she’s getting a taste of how Becky feels right now. Good.  
  
“No.” Charlotte sets her jaw, she knows Becky is stubborn but so is she.   
  
“Look, ladies,” the barman interrupts, “I don’t want any trouble in here.”   
  
Becky smiles at him and shakes her head, a sardonic laugh spilling out of her mouth before she speaks. “There won’t be any trouble, man, don’t worry. She was just leaving.”   
  
She pulls at Charlotte’s wrist so that the blonde has to lean down a little and Becky’s mouth is at her ear, it’s intimate and familiar all at the same time and Charlotte has to stop the shiver that tip toes up from the base of her spine like it’s wary of Becky too.   
  
“If you don’t leave,” Becky voice is taunting, verging on being cruel, “pick a window over there and I will make you leave myself. Got it?”   
  
An expected sob chokes Charlotte’s throat but she does her best to swallow it down. “Yeah, got it.”   
  
When Charlotte leaves, Becky nurses her next drink. The liquid is beginning to burn like no one’s business. She realises that things are usually as bad as you think they’ll be. People are also usually as bad as you think they’ll be and guess what? The universe really doesn’t care.  


*****

“How are you sleeping?”   
  
A curtain of water falls outside the office the window. Becky’s socks are sodden, her jeans are sticking to her legs and more good coffee would have been perfect but Beth only has the instant kind.   
  
“I’m alright.”   
  
“Really?”   
  
Beth’s blonde hair is knotted back and held tightly in place, and she is wearing casual clothes with little make up. She’d been thinking that Becky wouldn’t show up.   
  
“Sure. I need to get back to work, I’m going crazy.”   
  
Beth raises a skeptical eyebrow.   
  
Becky gets it. After what she’s been through she can understand why Beth doesn’t believe her. “I know it’s hard to believe but I’m alright.”   
  
A gust of wind shakes the old house and the windows rattle. Beth’s face tightens a little. She reaches out and straightens up the tissue box on the table and while Becky hasn’t had many sessions with her, she’s been a cop long enough to know a case of the heeby-jeeby’s when she sees them.   
  
“It’s just the weather.”   
  
Beth’s eyes flicker up. “What’s it like out there?”   
  
“Well my feet are soaking, my jeans are glued onto my legs and my hair is a disaster so I’d say it’s pretty shitty myself but other than that, great.”   
  
“Ah, so you do have some sort of sense of humour then.”   
  
“I want to be cleared to go back to work.”   
  
“You’re not ready.”   
  
“I am.”   
  
“You’re not.”   
  
Becky slouches further down in her chair, her brows furrowed in obvious annoyance. She looks up and finds a sprinkler directly above her head, just staring down at her as if it is waiting on her bursting into flames. The silence they lapse into is an uncomfortable one. But that’s okay, Becky is used to this. It’s a skill she has crafted over the years during interviews. Whenever things get too quiet someone feels the need to talk and it sure as hell isn’t going to be her.   
  
A minute passes and then another and then Beth eventually speaks again. Becky smiles.   
  
“You know I can’t clear you yet.”   
  
“I seen Charlotte last night.” 

“And?”   
  
“An’ I threatened to chuck her out a window.”   
  
“And did you?”   
  
“Nah.”   
  
“Why not?”   
  
The silence is back again. Beth leans forward a little and they both look at each other from where they are sitting at opposite sides of the table. Becky breaks eye contact first, choosing to look out the window at the trees that sit alongside the house, there is still a handful of leaves on them, clinging on despite the weather.   
  
“I didn’t really want to.”   
  
“Why?”   
  
Becky shrugs and returns her attention back to the room. That was the biggest issue when you started getting used to someone constantly being in your life. You didn’t half miss them when they weren’t around anymore.   
  
She shifts her shoulders and pulls herself up a little so that she’s no longer slouching down in the chair. “Because it was Charlotte.”  
  
“Okay.”   
  
“Because it was Charlotte and as much as I want to hate her right now I can’t, I miss her like I’m missing my right arm an' I don’t really know what to do with that.” 

*****

_The room holds four desks in two sets facing each other. Each desk mirrors its partner, with a computer screen and mismatched file and report trays. Three desks have accommodated permanent occupants for the last few years but the fourth still sits practically empty. Becky gives it another week before Bayley’s desk is full like the rest of theirs. It’s where Becky used to perch herself rather than her own desk.  
  
“Morning, Becky,” Natalya calls as she slides into her chair. Natalya’s work tends to be meticulous. Anything not labeled and in separate little trays is stacked perfectly along the top of her desk. Becky’s pretty certain she’s some sort of genius. She’s Becky’s go to person when anything goes wrong around this place.   
  
Not far behind is Sheamus who mumbles a ‘good mornin’ as he glances at them both. His sleek frame looks immaculate, like he’s been dressed by a parent but Becky doesn’t ever plan on telling him that. Immediately his jacket lands on the back of his chair. By the end of the day his tie will have dropped a few inches, the top button of his shirt will be open and his crisp sleeves will be rolled up to his elbow. Becky sees him look at her desk and then Natalya’s, looking for coffee mugs. When he sees that they’re already sorted for drinks, Sheamus fills his own out. His desk organisation isn’t a system that anyone understands but Becky has yet to request a report or statement that isn’t in her hand within a few seconds.   
  
“How’s the rookie doin’?” Sheamus asks as he moves into his own seat that sits diagonally across from Becky’s own.   
  
“Alright, can’t complain. We’re still getting used to each other. She thought me an’ you were related.” That had made Becky laugh at the time.   
  
“Must be the hair, our fiery locks,” Sheamus answers with a laugh of his own. _

_Before Becky can say anything else Bayley rounds the corner with the usual happy smile on her face. Becky has a bet on with Natalya that the smile will be gone within a month but she has to admit that so far Bayley is proving her wrong. Bayley takes little time at sorting herself out and sitting at her desk, she looks like an eager puppy ready to learn.  
  
“Wouldn’t get too comfy, rookie,” Sheamus says, “we have a meeting with Hunter.”   
  
“About what?” Bayley asks, looking between them all.   
  
“I dread to think,” Becky eventually answers before lifting herself off her desk and heading out the door. “C’mon.”   
  
\-   
  
They head into Hunter’s office in single file with Becky at the end of the line feeling like she’s back at school again and about to be told off for talking too much. Knowing Hunter that is actually a possible scenario.   
  
“Come in, sit down please.”   
  
There are three plush black chairs in front of a large executive desk that suits Hunter down to the ground. Sheamus and Natalya take the first two and Becky waves off Bayley’s offer at the third, she’s happy to stand and sip at her coffee while half pretending to listen to whatever Hunter is about to say to them. If she's been in one of these meetings she's been in them all.   
  
“Tell me how things are going?” Hunter asks.   
  
“Pretty quiet,” Sheamus admits. “Probably won’t last long but we’ll take it.”   
  
Hunter’s face brightens a little at that. “Perfect, so I can get straight down to business. We know that Finn leaving has left us in the lurch with a media ‘go to person’ and it’s a problem that needs fixed sooner rather than later because as soon as the next big case comes in you know what will happen. Bullshit headlines that we can’t control which will make our lives harder.”   
  
Becky is going to miss Finn. He was fair, gave them time to sort their shit out before he went public with anything and he never ever painted them in a bad light. It was a mutual agreement. He’d control the information flowing out and in return they’d give him little pieces of information about their investigation that no one else had. It was a win win. He’d been offered a new job in a different state with double the pay and Becky couldn’t blame him for taking it. Hell, she’d consider another job in another state for double her salary.   
  
“Bloody Finn,” Becky mutters darkly.   
  
“The good news is he recommended someone to take his place,” Hunter goes on. “I don’t know much about her but she’s good apparently, bit of a hot shot at what she does.”   
  
Becky rolls her eyes then because now she’s going to have to get used to working alongside another rookie. This should be good. “I suppose if Finn trusts her then we can, I would have trusted that guy with any investigation info we had.”   
  
“Exactly,” Hunter agrees.   
  
“So, who is she?” Natalya asks. “Do we know her?”   
  
Becky takes a drink of her coffee and she feels her throat loosen when she hears the name Hunter says. The resulting mouthful of coffee ends up going down the wrong way and before she knows it she’s coughing like a maniac and the coffee is burning its way down her throat and up towards her nose all at the same time. She turns her back on them to continue her coughing fit and then there’s a hand slapping at her back.   
  
“You alright man?” Sheamus asks and there’s a hint of concern in his voice as he gives her the once over.   
  
“I’m good,” Becky croaks, “coffee just went down funny.”   
  
Sheamus gives her a strange look but returns to his seat and fixes his focus back onto Hunter. “So, Charlotte Flair then?”   
  
Hunter simply nods. “Charlotte Flair.”   
  
Oh shit.   
  
_


	3. Follow The Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little bit brighter for Becky and Charlotte... 
> 
> (This chapter is a little dialogue heavy but it couldn't really be helped)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all had a great Christmas if you celebrated it! 
> 
> Thanks for all the comments and kudos so far, much appreciated :)

**Xavier Rudd; Follow the Sun**

_Tomorrow is a new day for everyone, brand new moon, brand new sun so follow, follow the sun, the direction of the birds, the direction of love…  
  
_

* * *

_  
The late afternoon walkers in the park are all wrapped up warm. The wide skies overhead are azure blue into the distance but the air is still cold and crisp. At the northeastern corner of the park, Becky and Charlotte walk around the edge of the shoreline that overlooks the glittering large body of water.  
  
They walk slowly, apparently annoying everyone who is around them. Becky frowns when someone else pushes past them and mutters some curse under his breath. She thinks about calling out to him and giving him a piece of her mind. It seems like such a Becky Lynch thing to do but she just can’t see herself doing that in front of Charlotte and so she doesn’t.  
  
The unusual silence between them is beginning to grate on Charlotte’s nerves. It’s itchy and uncomfortable.  
  
So not surprisingly it’s Charlotte who finally breaks the quiet. “Okay, I can’t take the silence anymore, what’s wrong?”  
  
“Nothing.”  
  
“Becky.”  
  
“Charlotte.”  
  
“Give me some credit please.”  
  
Becky blows her cheeks out then and comes to a standstill. “Did you know who I was when you met me? Is that why – “  
  
“Becky, seriously?”  
  
“I had to ask,” Becky answers as she starts moving forward again, not waiting for Charlotte to keep up.  
  
“Well the answer is no, I had no idea who you were before.”  
  
Becky believes her. “Am sorry, Charlotte.” She feels her shoulder bump against Charlotte’s, she hadn’t realised they were walking so closely together again.  
  
“If it’s a big deal for you then I can tell them I don’t – “  
  
Becky turns her head in Charlotte’s direction. “Don’t be silly, Charlotte. It’s a great opportunity for you, I ain’t gonna stop you from havin' that.”  
  
“Do you have any tips for working with you and your lot?”  
  
“Me and my lot? That’s tough talk. What I will say is as long as you do something with confidence no one will probably question you cause of it.”  
  
“Okay, I can do that.”  
  
They walk another ten paces or so before Becky feels Charlotte’s fingers tangle with her own and it brings Becky to a stop again. She brings their joined hands upwards a little and gives Charlotte a questioning look. If anyone sees her today, her ‘tough detective’ credibility is going to take a bruising but she finds that she doesn’t actually care. Okay, she does care but not enough to drop Charlotte’s hand and let go.  
  
“I’m practicing the whole confidence thing,” Charlotte explains, although Becky can see a faint red tinge on her neck and cheeks. “But you just said no one will question you if you do something with confidence and yet here we are twenty seconds later.”  
  
Becky only grins, leaning forward on her toes to kiss Charlotte. “C’mon.”  
  
They set off again, wandering aimlessly in the dying afternoon sun that has bleached the sky a deep orange colour, Charlotte’s hand tucked safely in Becky’s own. What surprises Becky is her inability to shut up when it comes to Charlotte. Becky tells Charlotte what to expect from the people she works with and then, when Charlotte asks Becky about her childhood again, Becky relents and tells her everything she wants to know, apparently the element of mystery has worn off for Charlotte.  
  
As they leave the park and merge into the crowded street, Charlotte holds Becky’s hand tighter and Becky lets her.  
_

*****

“Coffee, toast and a double helping of bacon,” Paige states, picking up her unopened menu and handing it to the young waiter. Charlotte looks at her and then furrows her brows. “Please,” Paige then adds.  
  
“Weren’t you eating breakfast when I called you earlier?”  
  
“Yeah,” Paige nods. “I have a good appetite, plus this is brunch, it’s technically another meal time. Just because I didn’t pick a dainty omelette like you.”  
  
“Point taken.” Charlotte marvels at Paige’s ability to just switch off and focus on something relatively unimportant right now like food. She is even a little jealous. There are a few minutes of silence as Charlotte looks out the window before Paige clears her throat.  
  
“So, spill then, what’s going on?” Paige asks.  
  
Charlotte shrugs feebly and blows out her cheeks. “I wish I knew. I bumped into Becky a few nights ago and I tried to talk to her to explain. It didn’t go well.”  
  
“Well at least you’ve tested the waters now,” Paige says, “it sometimes just takes time.”  
  
“Oh, I tested the waters and believe me, they are not welcoming,” Charlotte eventually replies. “It’s hopeless.”  
  
“It’s not hopeless,” Paige argues, “it’s just extra challenging.”  
  
Charlotte scoffs and directs her eyes back to the window. “Hopeless is hopeless, Paige, and don’t pretend that it isn’t.”  
  
Paige rolls her eyes so hard that they nearly touch her brain. “She needs you right now, even if she doesn’t realise that she needs you.”  
  
“Yeah. I don’t think so,” Charlotte argues, “you didn’t hear her. Seriously.”  
  
“She’s hurt and angry and grieving and she thinks you betrayed her,” Paige holds up her hand to stop Charlotte from interrupting, “And I know you didn’t but that’s just how she’s seeing things right now. Have you ever been in her shoes?”  
  
The waiter arrives with their orders before Charlotte can even forge a reply. She cuts her omelette into little squares before she notices that Paige is piling up slices of bacon on her toast to make a giant toasted sandwich.  
  
“It’s bloody good in ‘ere,” Paige mumbles. She’s clearly hungry because before Charlotte is even half way through her food, Paige is already finished and wiping her hands on a clean napkin. “So have you?”  
  
“Well obviously not, but I understand – “  
  
“See, we think we do, Char. We say we understand but we don’t. We don’t know half the things Becky’s seen, done or felt over the last few months. It’s easier to be angry at the people you love when you’re feeling the way she does.”  
  
“She’s never said she loves me, so.”  
  
Paige just gives her a look at that comment and Charlotte decides to ignore it. Out of sight out of mind.  
  
“I just miss her.” Charlotte does, God she does. “It’s probably more than missing. And not just for everything we had, but everything we might have had or could have had. It’s a mess.”  
  
“And I can guarantee you that she misses you but how is she supposed to feel after everything that has gone on over the last few months? You just need to let her be, don’t push her. Let her get her head around it and when she does you need to be there for her.”

“I know I fucked up,” Charlotte says quietly, “I know I shouldn’t have told Corbin anything but I had no idea he’d go rogue like that, never had any reason to believe he would either.”  
  
“That’s the thing about power, Charlotte,” Paige states, “the moment you get it someone else is already standing behind you waiting to take it away. Corbin saw the chance to have his name in the headlines and took it. Dickhead that he is.”  
  
“Do you think Becky will forgive me if I explain?”  
  
“I think,” Paige muses, blowing steam from her coffee cup. “I think that everybody is looking for redemption for something and sometimes they get it.”

Charlotte takes the last bite of her food and then she puts her chin in the palm of her hand as she leans on the table. Paige is right on some level, Charlotte knows that but that doesn’t make it hurt any less because it does hurt, it hurts like a bitch. Like an old wound that’s been re-opened repeatedly and left to bleed all over again.  
  
Sometimes you had to think of life as a mountain where happiness is its peak and sadness is the valley. You have to decide whether you want to climb right to the top or not because if you do then you’re signing up to seeing and therefore feeling everything it has to offer – even the tough bits that hurt like a bitch inbetween.  
  
Charlotte decides then that she’ll climb the whole damn thing for Becky, as if she had any real choice anyway.  
  
“I think I know what I have to do.”  
  
Paige smiles at her and takes another mouthful of her coffee. “Let’s hear it then.”

***** _  
_

Becky walks towards the chair that sits staring at the blank tv that hangs on the wall before she closes her eyes. Another long night. Another long night of waiting for the different switches to switch off so she can be a little bit numb to the world.  
  
When she opens her eyes she sees the glaring reflections on her window from the quiet street below. Night is slowly stealing over the city. The landmarks that look familiar and innocent in the daylight now take on a more sinister appearance.  
  
To some, the glittering lights against the impending night sky will look exciting and full of promise. To Becky, it’s just a world of shadows. She reaches for the tv remote and picks up a blue pen so that she has something in her hands to focus on; she ends up biting on the end of it until she can taste the bitter flavour of the ink in her mouth. Her mind won’t settle and not for the first time, not by a long shot, she thinks maybe she’s made a mistake or several over the last few months.  
  
Something stirs inside her, it feels a lot like guilt and regret. It’s like a wave that’s been building its strength over hundreds of miles of ocean and now that it has crashed down on her with tremendous power it is starting to fade back into the tide, ebbing and flowing and taking her anger and resentment with it.  
  
Swiping her finger across her phone screen, she looks at the top left hand corner. Over sixty messages are still unopened and she knows who they are all from. There hasn’t been a new one since the incident in the bar a couple of weeks ago, Becky doesn’t blame Charlotte really.  
  
The thing is, Becky had meant what she said that night. It was simply a reflection of how she was feeling and she gets that now. And yeah, maybe she hasn’t handled things particularly well but who would really?  
  
But now she has to adjust to the new sense of her own story and that can’t be done in a day or a week, it’s an ongoing process, well that’s what Beth says anyway and it turns out Beth is right about a lot of things so Becky has decided to take her word for it. She’s just about to get up when there’s a knock on the door.  
  
She’s unsure who it can be considering no one has buzzed to get in but she moves towards the front door anyway. “Who is it?”  
  
“It’s me,” the voice answers quickly. “You gotta let me in, my arms are about to fall off.”  
  
“Sasha?” Becky questions as she unlocks the door and opens it to be met by her best friend. “What are you doing here?”  
  
Sasha sighs. “You didn’t really think I would let you be alone tonight did you? You’re cleared to go back to work in the next few weeks, I thought you’d be happy. I have ice cream and lots of it.”  
  
Becky laughs. “Yeah, you can come in then.”  
  
Sasha busies herself in Becky’s kitchen before she returns to sit herself down next to Becky and much to Becky’s chagrin, Sasha is empty handed.  
  
“I thought you brought ice cream with you?”  
  
“I did, I just wanted to make sure you were okay first.”  
  
Becky clasps her hands together and puts them behind her head. She’s trying to look relaxed but she’s pretty sure that Sasha can tell she isn’t very relaxed at all right now.  
  
“Am better now that I can go back to work.”  
  
“That’s not what I meant.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
-  
  
Becky tip toes through her apartment, peeking around the spare bedroom door to make sure Sasha is still in bed.  
  
“Sasha,” Becky whispers, shaking her gently.  
  
“What?” Sasha murmurs, rolling over. “What time is it?”  
  
Becky peers down at the phone in her hand, pressing it to illuminate the room in a dim glow. “Just after two in the morning.”  
  
“What?” Sasha repeats, rubbing her eyes. “What’s wrong?”  
  
Becky says: “Move over.”  
  
Sasha does as she’s told, holding up the duvet for Becky. “What’s wrong?”  
  
Becky doesn’t answer. Instead, she pulls the duvet up and under her chin before she closes her eyes.  
  
“Becky, is something wrong?” Sasha repeats.  
  
“Nothin’ is wrong. Go back t’sleep.”  
  
Sasha sits up in bed, turning on the light. “We’ve gotta talk, Becky.”  
  
Becky rolls over, her back to Sasha. “I don’t wanna talk.”  
  
“I don’t care,” Sasha answers, pulling the sheet away from Becky. “Sit up.”  
  
“Don’t tell me what to do in my own apartment,” Becky counters, feeling annoyed and a little bit defiant. She had come here so that she could sleep, not to be pushed around.  
  
“Let's just get it out there and talk about Charlotte. Because that’s clearly the elephant in the room.”  
  
Becky finally sits up. “No. I haven’t heard from her since I said I’d chuck her out of a window, that ship has sailed and sank. And anyway, I don’t care about that anymore.”  
  
Sasha sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “Cool. I’ll remember that the next time I see you looking like a flipped turtle over her. Do you know how many phone calls I had to take from her because of you? And it made me feel like shit because I knew I was lying to her and she knew I was lying to her too.”  
  
“It’s her own – “  
  
“No look, Becky. She maybe messed up and she probably did but not in the way you think, that woman cares about you. In fact that woman probably loves you. Life is too short, Becky, and you know that. Sheamus – “  
  
“Don’t make this about him. Please.”  
  
“I’m just saying, Becky, there isn't enough love in the world that you can turn it away when it's offered to you.”  
  
“You really believe what Charlotte said to you?”  
  
“I do, if she’d been lying she wouldn’t have kept calling me and she certainly wouldn’t have tried every trick in the book to get you to talk to her.”  
  
Becky pulls her lips into a tight line, pondering what Sasha has said. It’s not easy to hear. “Why are you telling me this now?”  
  
“Because you need to hear it now. I can’t tell you what to do or how to feel because you wouldn’t listen anyway. But I can tell you what I _think_ you should do and I think you should hear her out because she made you happy and that’s what life is about.”  
  
“Jeez, Bayley has turned you into a right sap!”  
  
“Bayley? What does Bayley have to do with it?”  
  
“Oh please, Sasha,” Becky says, trying to hold in a smile. “I don’t care that you’re doing the rookie. Just don’t distract her at work.”  
  
Sasha looks insulted at that and it only makes Becky smile harder, and for the first time in months she smiles freely. “I’m not ‘doing her’, I happen to really like her actually.”  
  
“That’s grand, I’m happy for you both. Seriously. I'm glad my situation brought you both together.”  
  
“Are you going to listen to what I said?”  
  
Becky runs her tongue across her teeth and her hand finds her scar through her shirt. “I’ll think about it.”  
  
“And stop calling Bayley the rookie! She hates it.”

*****

_Becky lies awake staring at the ceiling.  
  
They are missing something with their current case but Becky can’t put her finger on it yet. She knows she’s starting to fall into the black hole and Bayley is following her on the same path. She can’t allow that to happen. They’ve been working for eight straight days and have been ordered, rather than told, to take a day off.  
  
The room is silent except for the tender breathing sound of the blonde sleeping next to her. It sounds like a silly thing to say but Charlotte’s presence calms her, it anchors her down to the world when her natural inclination is always to be doing something.  
  
A little under an hour later Charlotte stirs next to her and sighs in her sleep. Cracks of morning light are beginning to creep through the partially open blinds, throwing shapes of light across Charlotte’s hair. For some reason Becky wants to reach out and touch it so she does, combing her fingers through it gently. Becky can’t remember the last time she’d spent consecutive nights with the same person never mind weeks – it’s been a long time. _

_“I can actually hear your brain whirring around from here.” Becky hears Charlotte’s voice muffled by the pillow.  
  
“Shh, you’re dreamin’.”  
  
“I’m awake, Becky.”  
  
“Okay, so what am I thinking about?”  
  
Charlotte rolls over and gives her a sleepy grin. “I never know with you so I’d just be guessing.”  
  
Charlotte really is the prettiest thing Becky has ever seen.  
  
“Then guess.” Becky leans up on her elbow and brushes a few strands of blonde hair away from Charlotte’s face. “Good mornin’.”  
  
“Morning.”  
  
“I wanna take you somewhere today.”  
  
“On a Sunday? Really?”  
  
“Trust me,” Becky says, “you’ll love it.”  
  
-  
  
“What is this?”  
  
“This,” Becky says, putting her arm out as if she’s proud as punch, “is the best damn bakery in the world.”  
  
“You dragged me to the other side of the city on a Sunday… for pastries?”  
  
The building is painted with swirls of colours: blues, reds, oranges, yellows, greens and pinks. It looks more like graffiti than anything else and Charlotte hasn’t seen a building like it, never mind a bakery. It actually looks like it belongs in the hippy 60’s. Imagine a hippy building and this is it no question. _

_“It’s not just any pastries, Charlotte,” Becky replies, as if Charlotte has just said the silliest thing in the world. “It’s Bread & Co. I come here every Sunday, well most Sunday’s but same thing.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“You’ll see.”  
  
Charlotte does see. The owner seems kind of sweet on Becky and as a result everything comes to them warm and fresh out the oven, even the tea is great. By the time they leave they have a take out bag full of sweet goodies and when Becky asks if Charlotte would like to go back with her next week she doesn’t really need to think about the question because the answer is always yes when it comes to Becky.  
  
And even if the fluttering of butterflies she feels every time she looks at Becky are stirrings of something, it is too soon.  
  
Way too soon.  
  
Charlotte has never been one to ‘fall fast’ but she figures it would be easy to fall in love with Becky. It is easy for her to be herself with Becky and it’s easy just to be there in the moment with Becky and not worry about anything else. To put it simply, Becky makes her happy and in this world that counts for an awful lot._

_Not that Charlotte’s aware of it, but for Becky it’s kinda ridiculous the way her heart flutters when Charlotte looks down at her and puts an arm around her shoulders as they walk towards the car. Public displays of affection have never really been her thing but when Charlotte’s lips brush against her temple she finds that she doesn’t really mind all that much anymore.  
_

*****

The first Sunday she returns to ‘Bread & Co’ Becky doesn’t talk to her and she’s prepared for that. Becky barely looks at her either and while it hurts as much as she thought it would, she’s also prepared for that too. Instead she focuses solely on her work. She types away on her Mac until she can feel cramp begin to numb her hands and when Becky stands to leave over an hour later Charlotte finally looks up; she catches Becky glancing at her but nothing is said between them. The door slams shut and Charlotte knows that’s just Becky using other blunt means of communication.  
  
The second Sunday she shows up goes pretty much like the week before. Although this time Becky is slouched on the seating bench so that her feet can reach the opposite seat and that means Charlotte can’t sit directly across from her. It’s beyond childish but something tugs at Charlotte’s lips then because it means that Becky has been expecting her and that can only be a good thing. She takes the table next to Becky instead and begins to read the book that she’s brought with her. The door slams a little quieter this time and Charlotte will take that right now.  
  
On the third week Becky is late and Charlotte wonders why. It’s tough not to ask why but she doesn’t, she knows it’s probably best to let Becky make the first move. So she keeps her mouth shut and hums along to the Christmas songs that are playing quietly in the background over the speakers. At one point she sees Becky mouthing along with the words too and she doesn’t stop when Charlotte gives her a knowing look. The door doesn’t slam at all this week and when Charlotte goes to pay for her tea and danish she finds that Becky has already paid for it.  
  
On the fourth Sunday, everything changes.  
  
Charlotte arrives first and the place is almost full. Her usual seat has someone sitting on it and she asks the guy sitting there if she can take the bench opposite him, and he agrees without even looking up from his phone. She sits at the end of the bench that runs the full length of the bakery window, it’s usually where Becky sits and the irony isn’t lost on Charlotte. A few minutes later the guy leaves without even giving Charlotte a second glance and ten minutes after that Becky arrives and takes the seat across from her.  
  
Becky’s jaw twitches like she wants to say something to Charlotte when she sits down and Charlotte remembers then that even jaws can be incredibly attractive. Instead, Becky slides Charlotte’s usual order across the table at her without a word and Charlotte accepts it gratefully.  
  
By all means her plan is working, slowly but surely she thinks she is finally getting through to Becky.

The silence they lapse into isn’t necessarily uncomfortable, it’s a tad awkward and a little tangible but considering where they’ve been over the last few months, it is a huge improvement. So Charlotte bites the bullet, excuse the pun, and decides to speak to Becky for the first time since Becky threatened to throw her out of a window.  
  
“I know you don’t like me right now, Becky, but I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. I hope… I hope you give me a chance to explain some day.” _  
  
_“I got cleared for work a few weeks ago. I officially start again tomorrow.”  
  
The words are uttered quietly and they are so unexpected that it takes Charlotte a few seconds to realise that they are actually aimed at her. She looks up to find Becky looking at her with those sad puppy eyes and it confirms that yep, Becky is actually talking to her voluntarily.  
  
“You do?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Becky moves then, standing up from where she is sitting across from Charlotte and Charlotte expects her to leave, expects the door to shut on her on the way out too but neither of those things happen. Instead Becky sits herself down next to Charlotte on the bench and for the first time in months Charlotte can _feel_ Becky again. It’s a little overwhelming.  
  
“That’s great,” Charlotte eventually murmurs when she’s sure that her voice isn’t going to break and betray her. “I’m happy for you.”  
  
“I've missed it, y’know.”  
  
“It’s your job, of course you miss – “  
  
“No,” Becky cuts her off, she doesn’t look at Charlotte though, she just chooses to stare straight ahead as if she’s focusing on some imaginary spot that Charlotte can't see. “I missed this… you, us, it all.”  
  
“Me too.”  
  
Charlotte then realises that Becky is now holding her hand and all Charlotte can do is let her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Bread & Co' in this story is actually based on a real place called 'Braud & Co' in Reykjavik, Iceland. I was there on a solo travel trip in September and I'm still having withdrawals from the food - the place is that good! Not to mention the building is so pretty, 10/10 would recommend.


	4. Just Like Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Becky and Charlotte finally get their shit together...

**The Cure; Just Like Heaven _  
_**

_Spinning on that dizzy edge, I kissed her face and kissed her head and dreamed of all the different ways I had to make her glow_ _…_  


* * *

Christmas and New Year passes relatively quickly and without any major incidents. Becky spends most of it with Sasha and, by extension, Bayley. It’s slightly awkward given they are colleagues but Sasha seems happy and that’s all Becky cares about. Life is too short after all.

Her and Charlotte talk more frequently too. Becky wakes up to messages from Charlotte on both Christmas day and New Year’s Day and she is only too happy to reply to them. However, they stick to safe topics like work and the weather and trivial things that don't really matter in the grand scheme of things but she hadn’t been lying when she’d told Charlotte that she missed her because she did and still does, very much so.  
  
Becky’s thinking about everything that has gone on over the past few weeks and months when her thoughts drift away back to Charlotte. This has become a regular occurrence.

Becky absolutely misses her. It’s still present, Becky knows that, there’s a spark that runs through her veins for Charlotte, like an itch that she can’t quite scratch right now and she’s not sure if she wants to anyway because what does it mean when that feeling is gone?  
  
She finds herself moving on autopilot. Jacket? Check. Shoes? Check. Apartment keys? Check. Car keys? Check.  
  
Half an hour later, Becky knocks a few times and then waits, moving from one foot to the other. The apartment door finally swings open and the blonde who answers it looks confused to see her. That’s not exactly a huge shock given this is an impromptu visit and add that to the fact that Becky has no idea who the person answering the door is and it’s no wonder it’s all a little confusing.  
  
The woman is standing at Charlotte’s door holding a glass of wine in her free hand and there’s cooking going on in the apartment and Becky’s not entirely sure what to make of the whole thing. She knows what it _looks_ like and that makes her baulk but she doesn’t know what to do with this situation. She’s woefully unprepared. When the hell is her luck going to change?  
  
However, what Becky does know, without any shadow of a doubt, is that the woman who is standing in Charlotte’s doorway is beautiful. And Becky also knows that she doesn’t particularly like that fact. It pulls at every nerve ending she has, twisting and tingling until her whole body feels like it’s protesting.  
  
“Alexa, who – Becky?”  
  
The phrase ‘a deer caught in the headlights’ has never really applied to Becky in her own life, well not frequently anyway, but she can say with certainty that the phrase is more than applicable right now in this current situation.   
  
Becky’s eyes move slowly between Charlotte and the woman she now knows as Alexa and Becky backs off a bit from the door, one step and then two. The more distance she puts between them the better. It feels like something is falling through her chest and into her stomach, like a coin in a slot machine. She’s pretty sure that if she had fur her hackles would be up.  
  
Charlotte, much to Becky’s disappointment, hasn’t said a word and Becky gets it now. The pieces have come together and clicked in her head and she understands it now, she gets what is happening here.  
  
Christ, she’s been in this other woman’s position right here in Charlotte’s apartment before – many times.  
  
“Becky, it’s not – “  
  
“Hey, it’s fine. You’ve moved on, I get it. You don’t owe me an explanation, Charlotte.”  
  
Charlotte knows what Becky is thinking, it is written all over her face but her appearance is so unexpected that Charlotte finds it difficult to find any words to say. She watches as Becky gives her an awkward wave and disappears out of view down the stairs. She finds herself stuck, unable to move until Alexa is taking her wine glass and giving her a little shove.  
  
“ _Go_ , Charlotte.”  
  
And she does go. She reaches the stairs quickly in a few long strides and she can see Becky at the bottom through the bars. She thinks about calling out but she doesn’t want to seem that desperate so she pushes herself quicker, reaching the bottom step just as Becky is nearly out of the building.  
  
“Becky,” she finally calls when she closes the distance between them, “don’t walk away from me again. Please.”  
  
There is something about Charlotte’s tone that has Becky slowing in her tracks. Charlotte sounds honest and earnest and Becky can feel the words ripple in her chest. Like a quiet little ache that needs tended to, and maybe in some way’s that’s exactly what Becky needs: to be cared for and taken care of.  
  
Becky meets Charlotte’s eyes. “What?”  
  
“It’s really not what it looks like, she’s just a colleague.”  
  
Just as Becky is about to reply Alexa appears; she’s dressed like she’s leaving and Becky is glad. She walks straight over to where Charlotte is and presses a hand to her shoulder, Becky’s pretty sure she mouths the words ‘good luck’ but among Becky's many talents, being a lip reader sadly isn’t one of them, so she can’t be too sure.  
  
“Come back upstairs with me and we’ll talk,” Charlotte says. She holds out her hand and Becky, God help her, tries to resist taking it, she really does but then her arm is moving of its own accord.  
  
-  
  
They’ve been speaking for over an hour when the conversation starts to steer back towards Becky and what has gone on over the past few months, it’s dangerous territory, Charlotte knows that but she figures she may as well go on because if Becky was uncomfortable she wouldn’t be long in letting Charlotte know.  
  
“That night you called me,” Charlotte starts, “I was at my desk like I said and I took down some notes of what you told me as usual. When I hung up the phone I told Corbin you guys had something promising and then I left to go to the bathroom. When I came back he was gone and I didn’t really think anything of it.”  
  
The only reply Becky can muster is an insult. “Sneaky son of a bitch.”  
  
“Yeah. Corbin had never given me a reason to believe he’d stab me in the back. I only knew about the headlines when you called me back and I checked online. He’d obviously checked over my notes.”  
  
“About that – “  
  
“It’s okay, Becky, you thought it was me and you were angry.”  
  
Becky frowns and she feels the pinch in her forehead. “I shouldn’t have though, I _know_ you. I should have known better but everything was spiraling so quickly and I had no idea how to deal with it all at once.”  
  
Charlotte reaches across and puts her hand around Becky’s forearm, giving it a reassuring squeeze to let Becky know that it’s okay, that Charlotte forgives her for that.  
  
“The guy panicked like I said he would,” Becky continues. “Was armed to the teeth too. I tried to talk him out of it but then all hell broke out. He shot at me and then Sheamus. I – “ her voice breaks then, thick and full of unshed tears that are going to fall eventually, whether Becky likes it or not. “I don’t know why I was so lucky or why I came out the other side of it.”  
  
“Hey, it’s okay. I told you,” Charlotte tilts Becky’s chin up so that they are eye level, “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. And for what it’s worth, Becky, I’m so glad you’ve came out the other side of it.”  
  
Charlotte moves her arm then and draws Becky in closer so that her arm rests over Becky’s shoulders and her head rests against Becky’s own. They fall into a comfortable silence and Becky feels strangely wholesome and equally fragile in Charlotte’s strong arms. Charlotte kisses the side of her head and Becky folds then.  
  
Tears finally spring, forming along the ridge of her lashes and Becky wipes them with her thumb but then more come in their place and this time Becky lets them fall, a path tracing the curve of her cheek.  
  
That’s what tears are for anyway. A way for the soul to bleed.

*****

It’s just after seven in the evening and the early February darkness wraps around the city like a winter duvet. The building is relatively quiet and Charlotte only passes two people on the way to Becky’s office. She moves on autopilot, she knows exactly where Becky will be and exactly what she will be doing. Becky and Bayley had moved into a new office when Becky returned back to work and now it’s only a room fit for two.  
  
Charlotte turns towards Becky’s office and then stops in the doorway. Becky’s at her computer typing away furiously at a report or something similar; she’s the captain of her ship. She’s scraped her hair back so it lies long and shiny on her back. Her brown eyes are bright and completely occupied. Her jacket is zipped half way down like she’d gone to leave earlier and then changed her mind, and the sleeves are rolled up. There’s just something about how Becky looks right now that grabs at Charlotte’s chest and Charlotte realises that she could probably look at Becky for hours.  
  
She clears her throat to let Becky know that she’s there and for a second Charlotte lets herself forget about the setting they are in and she smiles at Becky. “You know, you’re incredibly attractive when you’re all focused and concentrating.”  
  
Becky’s head flies up, and her eyes are wide – for about two seconds. Then that smile comes into them, the one that still makes Charlotte’s heart stutter in her chest a little.  
  
“So are you, attractive, I mean.”  
  
Charlotte rolls her eyes and brings the bag she holds the two drinks cups up. “I brought you coffee.”  
  
“My usual order?”  
  
“Obviously.”  
  
Becky takes the cup and lets out an appreciative hum when she removes the lid and lets the scent of coffee fill her senses. “Thank you for this, you can sit down y’know.”  
  
“You told me you were having a long day so it’s the least that I could do. How long has your day actually been?” Charlotte asks as she takes Bayley’s seat from her desk and rolls it over towards Becky's.  
  
Becky glances at her watch and then winces. “From around seven thirty this morning. Bayley has some date planned with Sasha so I’m covering her ass.”  
  
“How was your session with Beth?”  
  
Becky holds up a finger as she takes a drink of her coffee, it’s a delaying tactic but that’s okay, Charlotte can wait. When Becky eventually sits her cup back down she folds her hands out in front of her on the desk and her eyes flicker back up to Charlotte’s.  
  
“Good. I don’t have to go back and see her for another three months.”  
  
“Really? That’s great.”  
  
“S’pose so.”  
  
“You don’t sound convinced.”  
  
“I am,” Becky argues and there’s a note of surprise in her voice when she continues, “she’s helped me a lot actually. Didn’t think she would but here we are.”  
  
Charlotte reaches across and covers Becky’s hand with her own. Charlotte is proud of her but she’s not sure how she can say the words without sounding like a sappy mess because she knows Becky won’t appreciate that. Instead she settles on something neutral. “You’re doing great, Becky. Badass Lynch.”  
  
And Becky is badass, she absolutely is. She’s hard but soft; gentle but fierce. She’s a gift for Charlotte.  
  
Becky smiles and wraps her pink around Charlotte’s own.  
  
“Hey, did you know that you’ll be able to see Venus tonight?” Venus, the Goddess of love and beauty, married to Vulcan and the Roman counterpart to Aphrodite. “I seen them talking about it on tv this mornin’, thought it was kinda cool.”  
  
Charlotte knows this is Becky’s way of changing the subject and she let’s her. She’s careful not to push too much or too far because things are going pretty great between them and the last thing Charlotte wants to do is put her foot in it.  
  
Charlotte brushes a stray blonde hair behind her ear. “I didn’t have you down as a planet enthusiast.”  
  
“Am not,” Becky admits, “but I kinda like it when I have something cool to tell you.”  
  
Charlotte nods and considers that, thinking of something she can tell Becky in return. “Do you know ‘let’s get out of here’ is the most popular line in the movies?” She smiles across at Becky. “Seriously, listen for it in any movie and you’ll find it.”  
  
“Are you hungry?” Becky asks.  
  
“Sure, I could eat.”  
  
Becky stands up from her desk and quickly shuts down her computer before zipping her jacket up the rest of the way. She walks around so that she’s standing next to where Charlotte is sitting and then she extends her hand and Charlotte takes it without any hesitation.  
  
“Let’s get outta here.”

*****

Becky kisses Charlotte for the first time in six months on a cold Sunday afternoon in late February.  
  
The kiss isn’t planned or anything like that and there’s no grand gesture or romantic speech, it just kinda happens.  
  
It happens when they are in Charlotte’s apartment and they are two movies in. When Becky turns around she notices that Charlotte has got some powdered sugar on the corner of her mouth from the mini doughnuts they’ve been sharing from Bread & Co. Charlotte catches Becky staring and Becky decides then that she should kiss Charlotte.  
  
She wonders if she’s made a big mistake in doing so but when her mouth touches Charlotte’s she knows she hasn’t. She loses herself in the kiss and the feeling of Charlotte against her and how it makes her _feel_ and it actually feels a lot like coming home.  
  
“You… you kissed me.” Charlotte sounds unsure, like maybe she’s waiting on Becky to take it back or say she regrets it or say it shouldn’t have happened in the first place.  
  
“I did.”  
  
“You should probably kiss me again,” Charlotte says and she manages to sound casual until her voice cracks a little on the last word.  
  
Becky does kiss her again.  
  
And again.  
  
And again.  
  
And again.  
  
-  
  
It ripples through in waves, surging from the tips of her toes to her mouth before dying in a smile of pleasure that she can barely contain. Hushed moans. Arched backs. Her hand buried in Becky’s hair somewhere between her legs. It is hot. Becky’s fingers are digging moon crescents just above her hip bones in an attempt to hold her still while the tip of a specialist tongue plays with an expanse of sensitive skin.  
  
Charlotte lies on her back, pushing against the pillows behind her, chest rising quickly, as Becky finally comes up for air and collapses on top of her.  
  
“Jesus, Becky,” Charlotte breathes, “where did you learn to do that?! Actually, no… don’t tell me. I don't want to know.”  
  
She runs her hands up and down Becky’s lean shoulders, feeling the muscle and sinew underneath her fingertips, and then she begins giggling to herself. A grown ass woman giggling, how silly.  
  
Becky pops her head up, a now shy grin plastered across her face. “Why are you laughing? Did I do somethin’ wrong?”  
  
“God no! No, I just can't believe this is actually happening again.”  
  
Becky kisses Charlotte’s collarbone and then her neck and then her lips, she’s about to push herself up when Charlotte wraps her legs around the small of her back.  
  
“Not yet,” Charlotte says. “Just stay where you are.”  
  
Becky kisses her again, harder this time, forcing Charlotte’s head back against the pillow and she feels Becky’s right hand move against the outside of her thigh before Becky finally settles on top of her. Becky's skin feels sticky against her own and Charlotte loves the feeling of that.  
  
Charlotte’s mind runs to those ridiculously sappy love songs she’s heard throughout her life and she wonders if maybe those cheesy songs are about this feeling she has with Becky, this perfect feeling of coming together and forming one person that can take on the whole damn world.  
  
She runs her fingers through Becky’s hair, which is damp with sweat, and wonders if maybe all the crap and disappointment she’s gone through has been completely worth it for incredibly intimate moments like this.  
  
Smiling, Charlotte listens to the rain drumming against the window outside and of Becky’s heartbeat thrumming against her bare skin, and then she drifts contently off to sleep.  
  
-  
  
Charlotte wakes. Next to her, Becky is lying on her back, the sheet gathered at her hips, breathing so quietly that Charlotte can barely hear her. On the floor, items are still scattered everywhere: Becky’s t-shirt, Becky’s jeans, Charlotte’s own shirt and by some miracle her bra is still clinging to the end of the duvet.  
  
She sits up and catches sight of herself in the reflection of the mirror. Naked, and still a little conscious of it, even though she knows she doesn’t need to be. Becky has worshipped her body so many times before that she’s completely lost count.  
  
She leans down and kisses Becky’s shoulder and then her sternum and then she moves further down. This area of flesh on Becky’s body is unmarked except for the scar underneath her rib cage.  
  
Knowing Becky has been hurt and the manner of how she was hurt triggers an ache inside Charlotte that’s polar opposite from the pleasure that has been unfurling inside of her over the past twelve hours. She leans closer to the skin and instead of tracing it with her fingers she touches it with her lips.  
  
The sudden warm pressure on the still tender tissue stirs Becky awake. “Don’t,” her voice is a croaking whisper as she turns her head until she can see Charlotte full.  
  
“Shh.” Charlotte moves her finger to Becky’s lips. “I know you don’t want to talk about it. It’s okay.”  
  
Closing her eyes, Becky turns her head away as Charlotte slowly traces the healed wound again with her mouth. Charlotte can feel Becky attempting to shift underneath her but she doesn’t allow the momentum to swing Becky’s way for a change, instead she finds herself straddling Becky’s legs, holding her in place.  
  
“I like you on top,” Becky murmurs as she draws her fingertips down the soft pliant skin of Charlotte’s stomach before they settle on Charlotte's hips. The light in the bedroom is low but she can see the goose bumps rise on the blonde’s flesh from her touch. “Can see you better this way.”  
  
Becky reaches up and threads her hand in Charlotte’s hair to pull her down towards her. Charlotte rests her head against Becky’s own and she sees something flit across Becky’s features, there and gone before Charlotte can try and figure it out. When she pulls back a little she can see Becky worrying at her bottom lip.  
  
Becky draws in a stuttering breath and then she speaks. “I need to tell you something, Charlotte.”  
  
“I don’t like the sound – “  
  
“I love you.” And then Becky lets the breath she's been holding out. “I totally love you.”  
  
The feeling sweeps through Charlotte like a storm, quick and violent but clean. Flooded with it, she rests her head back against Becky’s and wets her lips with her tongue. She runs her fingertips over Becky’s jaw feeling a slight tick and brushes at it with her thumb.  
  
“Good, because I love you too. Always have.”  
  
“Thank you for not giving up on me, Charlotte. It would have been easy to walk away and I… I wouldn’t have blamed you.”  
  
“Didn’t you just hear me?” Charlotte asks gently and kisses Becky once, and then twice, and then the third time on her nose. “I love you. I was _never_ walking away.”


	5. We Grow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set about 10 months on from the last chapter :)

**Elmo; We Grow**

_Because we grow and we hold, and I’ll be forever so don’t you look back, take my hand and we’ll happen…  
  
_

* * *

_Becky and Sheamus are sitting in a booth at the back of the diner that sits across from their office building. They serve the best coffee and breakfast in town and nearly every table around them is full even though it is still shy of eight on a Monday morning.  
  
Sheamus, a gifted stress eater, has made a significant dent in his breakfast plate which takes up about half of their table; Becky, a gifted stress starver, is content to nibble on her toast and push fruit around her plate, glugging down coffee like it is going out of fashion.  
  
“I needed this,” Sheamus murmurs around a mouthful of bacon. “So hungry!”  
  
“It’s not even eight in the morning, dude, I dunno how you can eat like that.”  
  
“Because it’s amazing Becky, help yourself.”  
  
“Nah, I’m good man.”  
  
Sheamus returns his attention to his man mountain plate. “How normal does this feel these days? You and me grabbin' breakfast before work and then walking into a total clusterfuck about twenty minutes later.”_  
  
_“Why do you think I agreed to breakfast in the first place?” Becky humours him, even though breakfast is the last thing on her mind at the moment.  
  
Sheamus gulps down some orange juice and then dives right back into his breakfast, not coming back to the surface for another five minutes. “How’s Charlotte?”  
  
“We’re not talking about that.” Becky scrunches up her napkin and gives up on her plate altogether.  
  
“Ah, cmon, Becky. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other, you’d need to be blind not to notice! Do I need to buy a new suit for the wedding?”  
  
“Shut up!” Becky, despite her best attempt not to, begins to laugh and she picks up the napkin from the table and throws it at Sheamus for good measure. “If you must know, Charlotte is great. I really like her.”  
  
“I see that from the shit eatin' grin you have when she’s with you. You deserve it, kid. She’s a keeper, I’m tellin’ ya.”  
_

*****

The vending machines are notoriously unreliable, but Becky feels that the ones in their building are particularly useless. Still, like a gambler hitting the slot machines, she pushes the button again and again on the slim chance that it may give her the chocolate bar that she wants for her midnight snack.  
  
“Fucking hell,” Becky grumbles, staring at the flashing red numbers on the side of the machine. She waits, hands buried in the pockets of her jeans, as the lights continue to flash. The lights are mocking her, she can tell. She taps her foot and then feels the annoyance start to morph into anger. “Fucking useless.”  
  
She frowns when she sees Bayley walk towards her and then pass by her without so much as a word. She gives up on her chocolate bar and follows her partner back into the corridor, staying a pace or two behind so that it doesn't seem like she's snapping at Bayley's heels.   
  
“You alright?” Becky asks as they continue to walk.  
  
Bayley begins pushing on the door before realising that it is one that you pull open instead. She still hasn’t said a word and Becky sees something else in her face tonight, something Becky can pin point from ten miles away.  
  
When they eventually reach their office Bayley flops down onto her desk chair and Becky closes the door behind them so that there’s little to no chance of anyone eavesdropping on the way past.  
  
Becky guesses: “You’re wondering if this is the right career for you?”  
  
“I guess.”  
  
Becky lifts herself onto her desk and folds her arms across her chest. “You guess? You either are or you aren’t, Bayley. My pep talk will be very different depending on if you say yeah or no.”  
  
Bayley shrugs, as if it is nothing. “I guess, yeah. I’m too predictable. Pretty sure Sasha is going to break up with me at this rate, I’ve barely seen her in a week and with Christmas coming up...”  
  
That draws a smile from Becky because she’s heard a lot of stupid things in her life but that comment is up there for sure. “Some how I think you’re safe with that.”  
  
“Hmm.”  
  
“Look, I’m not gonna lie to you, some days this job sucks. We’ve been on the job for seventeen hours today and I’m as tired as you are, believe me. But you’re doing just fine, Bayley. It’s normal to feel that way sometimes.”  
  
Becky knows how Bayley feels, she’s debated about it with herself a million times but when you choose one way out of many, all the ways you don’t take are snuffed out like candles, as if they’d never even existed in the first place.  
  
“I’m just antsy and irritated and all I’m thinking about is when I can go home. We have two days off after this and I’m wondering why the hell I’d want to come back.”  
  
Becky looks down at the floor and then back up towards her partner. “Sasha understands y’know. She’s had all this with me before you even came into the picture. She gets it. You’re good at this job Bayley, not as good as me obviously but we can’t all be that good.”  
  
That garners a smile out of Bayley and Becky grins back.  
  
“Yeah right.”  
  
“You know it,” Becky replies. “Go home, Bayley. Get some rest, spend some time with Sasha and come back recharged in a couple of days.”  
  
“What about – “  
  
“It’s fine,” Becky waves her off, “I’ll get it done in an hour or so, get outta here.”  
  
When Bayley leaves Becky yawns so hard that her jaw clicks. She’s itching to get home to Charlotte and the tiredness from the long day has seeped deep into her bones. She knows Charlotte will be fast asleep by now and she knows she’ll be a welcome refuge for Becky when she finally does gets home.  
  
Becky knows her and Bayley are lucky, very lucky at that. The thought keeps her content as she finally gets back to the last of her paperwork.  
  
-  
  
There’s a light layer of snow on the ground when Becky finally pulls up outside of the house. It is just after two thirty in the morning and the street is deathly quiet. The sky above her is heavy and she thinks there may be a lot of snow to come in the next few weeks, a white Christmas wouldn’t be a bad thing she supposes. She notices that the hallway light in the house has been left on especially for her. They’d bought the house three months ago and Becky has taken no time at all in settling in. The house is great, they have garden space and the best part is, they actually have good parking.

She pulls the key from her pocket and slides it into the lock as quietly as she can but the key rings attached to her key gives away her attempt at being completely stealthy. She slips her boots and jacket off in the hallway and trudges upstairs, paying a visit to the bathroom before she makes her way to the bedroom.  
  
Charlotte is asleep in the middle of the bed, sandwiched in between two sets of pillows. Becky strips down and lifts her t-shirt and shorts, changing into them quickly before sliding into bed. She nudges Charlotte over slightly and the blonde obliges, rolling over towards her own side of the bed as Becky rests on her elbow.  
  
“I’m glad you’re home,” Charlotte says and her voice is still full of sleep. “I was starting to worry.”  
  
“Am sorry I woke you, I tried to be quiet,” Becky whispers back.  
  
“It’s okay, I’ve been waiting for you.”  
  
“I’m here, Charlotte.”  
  
Charlotte reaches around for Becky’s arm and pulls it across her stomach. Becky presses herself against the bend of Charlotte’s back and her fingers dip and then settle just underneath the waistband of Charlotte’s shorts and Becky feels Charlotte let out a placating sigh at the touch. The tiredness that she’s accumulated over the day threatens to overwhelm her and her nose nuzzles into the space between Charlotte’s shoulder blades.  
  
“I’m glad you’re home, Becky.”  
  
“Me too, baby.”  
  
-  
  
Becky wakes and inches towards consciousness, her eyes still closed, and there’s light filtering across her face, she can feel it behind her eye lids. Charlotte has clearly opened the blinds to let the morning sun in and the brightness of it pains her, even with her eyes still closed. It's not exactly the most accomodating thing to happen to someone who has only managed a few hours sleep.  
  
She slides her hand across the bed to feel around but there’s no one there so she extends her hand and explores a little further but still finds nothing but the duvet cover.  
  
“You better be looking for me, Becks.”  
  
Charlotte’s voice comes from the opposite side of the room and she sounds like she's smiling. Becky thinks she has some cheek smiling at this time of the morning.  
  
“What time's it?”  
  
Becky peeks an eye open and finds Charlotte standing with her back to her and Becky can see the ripples of muscle across her naked shoulders and back. She’s wearing nothing except the small pair of shorts she wears to bed and Becky counts her lucky stars because how on earth did she manage to find someone like Charlotte Flair?  
  
“It’s after eight.”  
  
Becky registers the information and nods. Okay, eight in the morning, that means she’s had nearly six hours sleep. She can cope with that. Although the long yawn that follows suggests she may be lying to herself a little.  
  
“Everything okay last night?” Charlotte asks and she saunters over towards the bed where Becky is to grab a towel. She slips out of her shorts and pulls the towel around her midsection.  
  
“Bayley had a bit of a wobble but I fixed it,” Becky answers with a smile.  
  
“My hero.”  
  
“You know it. Are you goin' for a shower?”  
  
Charlotte grins then. “I am, so you’ll know where to find me if you want me.”  
  
She keeps her eyes on Becky as she walks away, lingering and tempting.  
  
And despite her tiredness, Becky is helpless and in love, and can only get up and follow.

*****

It’s Christmas day and Becky is nervous.  
  
She’s actually convinced that there are real live butterflies in her stomach, flying around and making her feel anxious and Sasha keeps giving her glancing looks to make sure she’s okay and Becky is about to throttle her because she knows Charlotte has noticed the looks and is itching to ask what is going on. Thankfully she’s too busy in the kitchen with Bayley and Paige to actually ask what’s going on.  
  
Being the first Christmas in their new house they’d wanted to go all out for it. So Charlotte had suggested - in a moment of madness Becky now thinks - that they hold Christmas day here for them and their friends. As a result, instead of having a relaxing Christmas day with just the two of them, they are now celebrating it as a group and that has only made Becky’s nerves ten times worse.  
  
She sits on the couch with her knees bouncing away to their own rhythm and her hands initially tucked into her pockets before she places them flat on her thighs in an attempt to stop her legs from moving. Her Christmas jumper lights up every so often and Becky has honestly never felt so ridiculous in her life.  
  
“Will you relax? Charlotte’s gonna to think you’re on something!”  
  
Becky glares at Sasha before she turns towards the kitchen to make sure no one else can hear her. “Shut up. It's bad enough you guys are even here, you knew my Christmas day plan.”  
  
She stands and makes her way over towards the tree that still houses all their gifts underneath. The box she brings out of her pocket is a deep shade of royal blue; about two inches long and two inches wide. Inside the box is the perfectly stitched cushion that holds a platinum band upright, on top of the platinum band is a modest princess cut diamond that creates a stunning sparkle every time light bounces off it. She’d gone back and forth between two rings but she’d kept coming back to this one for some reason and Becky has found it’s usually useful to go with your gut instinct. Sasha’s seal of approval had only cemented her decision.  
  
She slips the box into an innocuous looking Santa themed Christmas bag she’d purposely left out before she sits it under the tree next to Charlotte’s other gifts.  
  
“She’s gonna say yes, Becky. You know that.”  
  
“What if she doesn't?” Becky asks quietly.  
  
“Don’t be stupid.”  
  
“Who’s being stupid?” Charlotte asks as her, Bayley and Paige come back into the living room, bearing drinks.  
  
“Her,” Sasha says, with a nod to Becky, and Becky’s heart almost stops. “She said we’re crashing your first Christmas in this house. Anyway, it’s time to open our presents!”  
  
Becky is indeed going to kill Sasha. She’d been hoping to prolong this part but she’s planned it out with Sasha in a roundabout way that they will open their gifts in a clockwise direction and that means that Charlotte will be last.  
  
Charlotte sits next to her on the couch with an arm through Becky’s own as Sasha and Bayley open their gifts first. Becky and Charlotte had come up empty with what to get them so had settled on booking them a weekend away at a fancy hotel in the city. Becky had also decided on getting Bayley the ‘Official Detective’s Handbook’ as a joke and when Bayley rips the paper from it and her eyes skim over the title she can only laugh hysterically. Paige is practically drooling at the extensive and expensive make up set that Charlotte has bought her, although it is from both of them Becky really can’t take any credit for it.  
  
“You did good with the gifts,” Becky whispers in Charlotte’s ear. “I think they like them.”  
  
“We did good, you're next,” Charlotte answers her and then nudges her shoulder. "You should know that I have a few gifts I can't give you here if you know what I mean...”  
  
Becky does and she beams in response.  
  
Then she rolls her eyes as presents are sent towards her. She decides to open the one from Sasha and Bayley first because there’s a glint of something in Bayley’s eyes that are making Becky wonder. She gets impatient with the wrapping paper and ends up biting at the corner of it with her teeth. A book falls out and Becky recognises it immediately because it’s the exact same one she has just given Bayley.  
  
“Son of a – “  
  
Bayley is back to laughing hysterically. “Merry Christmas, partner.”  
  
Becky can only shake her head and she moves onto the next gift. It’s boxy but light and this time the wrapping paper comes away easily when she rips at it. She opens the box to find a brand new pair of Adidas Jeremy Scott sneakers; jet black in colour and Becky _loves_ them already. She knows they’ve been Sasha’s idea and Becky could kiss her right now.  
  
“Sasha, you shouldn’t have. They must’ve cost – “  
  
Sasha waves her off. “I used my discount and then Bayley and me went half stuff. Enjoy them. You’ve hinted about them for long enough!”  
  
Finally, after Paige’s gift for Becky is revealed to be an expensive bottle of whiskey, Charlotte gets to her feet and pads across towards the tree. When she returns she gives Becky a small rectangular box and Becky’s eyes dart over towards Sasha because surely her and Charlotte haven’t had the same idea? Are you supposed to wrap things like that? Becky doesn’t think so but she’s never asked anyone _this_ question before so she might be wrong.  
  
For once, Becky takes care with the wrapping paper, unfolding the corners and then tugging a little at the single strip of cello tape. The box is longer than the one Becky has for Charlotte and Charlotte watches intently as Becky finally discards the wrapping paper and has the box in her hand.  
  
It’s black in colour and there is fancy silver lettering stamped on the front of it. Becky can feel her heart pounding steadily against her rib cage when she finally opens the box.  
  
It’s a silver chain and attached to the chain is a charm in the shape of a key. The key is dainty and there are several little diamond stones encrusted on it that makes it shimmer, like the key is blinking in and out of existence. Despite the size of it, it looks like something that is supposed to be noticed. Becky runs her finger over it and then her eyes flicker up towards Charlotte’s.  
  
“Charlotte, it’s beautiful.”  
  
“So you like it?” Charlotte asks and Becky’s eyes already give her answer away. Charlotte watches as Becky stands and lifts her hair up.  
  
“Well, put it on me then,” Becky huffs impatiently.  
  
Charlotte stands behind Becky, putting her hands on Becky’s shoulders before moving them forward to clip the chain around Becky’s neck. She resists the urge to press a kiss onto the skin that connects Becky’s neck and shoulder because God help the teasing that would come her way from the rest of them in the room, Charlotte just doesn’t think it would be worth it. Then again…  
  
The decision is ultimately taken out of her hands when Becky turns around and kisses her; chaste and quickly on the lips. She thinks Becky has been thinking the same as her and it's a kind reminder of how much Becky _knows_ her. She watches as Becky’s fingers come up to rest against the little key charm on her chest.  
  
Charlotte figures that people are like padlocks and it doesn’t matter how big or small the padlock is, there is always a key out there somewhere that opens it. Charlotte knows that Becky is hers as much as she is Becky’s.  
  
“Your turn now,” Becky says and there’s something in Becky’s voice that has Charlotte frowning a little but she sits back down onto the couch and watches as Becky picks up a Santa themed bag from under the tree. Becky seems to stare at it for a moment before she blows her cheeks out and hands it to Charlotte.  
  
Becky can see Sasha and Bayley out the corner of her eye, Sasha is tucked under Bayley’s arm and Sasha looks like she’s about to erupt with excitement although she is keeping it under control admirably. Becky, on the other hand, is a total riot of nerves and when Charlotte goes to open the bag Becky finds her heart has moved into her throat, pressing down so that she can't swallow.  
  
Charlotte picks up the square box and removes it from the bag and when she opens it her mouth falls open a little. “Becky,” she breathes, looking up at Becky with the gentlest of looks. “What – “  
  
“Look,” Becky cuts her off before Charlotte can ask any questions. She has no speech prepared and she kinda wishes right now that she did because maybe then her brain wouldn’t be a jumbled mess. “I love you. You are it for me. I don’t need to love anyone else ever. I kinda wanna marry you and am hopin’ you kinda wanna marry me too - ”  
  
Becky’s rambling comes to an abrupt stop when Charlotte surges forward and kisses her, hand tangled in Becky’s hair to keep her close.  
  
Becky hears a murmur of ‘finally’ that she’s pretty sure comes from Sasha and then there's a squeal of excitement that is definitely from Paige but she doesn’t break the kiss, she waits until Charlotte pulls back a little and if Becky was unsure of the answer then she isn’t anymore. She knows from Charlotte’s eyes and expression and smile that the answer is yes.  
  
“I kinda wanna marry you too, Becky.”

*****

There is a stillness to the air as Becky refuses to look at her. Becky looks at the sky and the trees and their interlocked fingers instead. Charlotte watches Becky blink and then look away as if something else has pulled her attention, a soft smile tugging at her mouth.  
  
Becky is still scarred by rooted, deep wounds, but behind the façade and the barricades is a different person; a better, now happier person.  
  
The winter sun is still high in the sky and the white clouds puncture the vast, cold blue overhead. Becky leans out and brushes her hand against the stone. She isn’t sure why she does it but it feels like the right thing to do – automatic and respectful. Their newly bought flowers are at the end of a long line. She sees flowers from her colleagues all already in place. She feels a little guilty at not being here before Christmas but she’d had a lot on her mind, asking someone to marry you was a big – okay it’s a huge – deal. Sheamus would get it, she knows that.  
  
“Are you okay?” Charlotte queries.  
  
Becky sighs and shrugs her shoulders like it is obvious. “I’m okay, I’m glad you’re standing here with me.”  
  
Charlotte waits another ten minutes or so before she untangles her fingers from Becky’s, bringing them to her mouth to press a kiss against them. “I’m going to start the car, you should take a few minutes to yourself.”  
  
Becky watches until Charlotte disappears out of view and lets out a sigh. She keeps her hands tucked into the pockets of her jeans and she feels her nose getting cold. She takes a few steps away before she back pedals and looks around to make sure no one can hear her.  
  
“You were right y’know, Sheamus. Charlotte is a keeper and she said yes, so I hope you have that new suit after all.”  
  
She raps her knuckles against the stone again and over to her right leaves fall from a tree that’s so big it looks like it’s reaching up into the clouds. When Becky looks upwards a bird is delicately bouncing back and forth along one of the thick branches that spreads outwards.  
  
The branch remains resolute and then a few seconds later the bird is gone, swooping down towards her and then back upwards into the never ending sky.  
  
-  
  
By the time she gets back to the car she’s not totally surprised to see Charlotte standing outside the driver’s side door, looking like she’s about to set off and find Becky again.  
  
“I’m here,” Becky calls as she walks and Charlotte’s attention flies up to Becky from her phone.  
  
“I was just coming to get you.”  
  
Becky smiles and then leans up to place a kiss onto Charlotte’s jaw. “You already got me.”  
  
“Cheesy line but I won’t complain.”  
  
“Nah, you better not complain or I’ll take this back.” Becky holds up Charlotte’s left hand and the diamond that sits on her finger reflects splinters of vibrant light from the sun above them.  
  
Charlotte furrows her brows then, unafraid of the futile threat. “You won’t.”  
  
“You’re right, I probably won’t.”  
  
“It’s because you love me, Becky.”  
  
“I do.”  
  
“See, you’re even practicing for our big day already. For what it’s worth though, I love you too.” Charlotte tugs at the collar of Becky’s leather jacket to bring her closer and then kisses her properly and she can feel Becky smile into it - of all the kind of kisses Becky gives to her that is still Charlotte's favourite.  
  
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Charlotte asks when she finally pulls away and there’s a cloud of condensation above them from the cold as she rests her head against Becky’s own. “Cause I know how much you miss him.”

Becky knows she has the three vital ingredients to happiness in the palm of her hand: she has someone to love, something to look forward to and a place to call home.  
  
“I do miss him,” Becky admits, “but I have you and we have our new home and we’re gonna get married so I’d say that’s pretty awesome.”  
  
“It is.”  
  
Becky hums in agreement, cupping Charlotte’s cheeks in both of her hands. Charlotte’s nose and cheeks are red with the cold and she looks all kinds of adorable. Becky kisses Charlotte’s cheeks and then her nose before placing a chaste kiss on her lips. She then silently thanks any higher powers that exist for bringing Charlotte Flair into her life.  
  
Right now everything is great and Becky is finally happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank everyone who has read this story and left a kudos/comment. It is really appreciated and I hoped you enjoyed the journey. 
> 
> P.s Happy New Years Eve or "Hogmanay" if you're Scottish like myself! Hope 2019 is an awesome year for you all :)


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